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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT 


From  the  Library  of 

Henry  Goldman,  Ph.D. 

1886-1972 


c^ 


\ 


Digitized  by  tlie  Internet  Arcliive 
in  2007  witli  funding  from    ^ 
IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


littp://www.arcliive.org/details/balaustionsadvenOObrowiala 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE 

ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY 

PACCHIAROTTO 

AND  OTHER  POEMS 


BY 

ROBERT   BROWNING 


BOSTON 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND   COMPANY 

New  York:   11   East  Seventeenth  Street 

(STbe  llitieraibe  1^0,  CamijiiDge 

1B80 


C  AMBRI  DGE; 
PRINTED    AT     THB    RIVERSIDE     PRESS- 


stack 
Annex 


CONTENTS. 

PACK 

BALAUSTION'S    ADVENTURE.        ...  7 

ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY  .        .        •  IS7 
PACCHIAROTTO  AND   OTHER   POEMS. 

Prologue 475 

Of    PACCHIAROTTO,    AND     HOW    HE   WORKED    IN 

Distemper ^'^'^ 

At  THE  "Mermaid"  ....  5^9 

House 5i9 

Shop 523 

Pisgah-Sights.     I 531 

PiSGAH-SlGHTS.      2 534 

Fears  and  Scruples 53^ 

Natural  Magic 542 

Magical  Nature 544 

Bifurcation 545 

Numpholeptos 548 

Appearances 55" 


4  CONTENTS. 

PAGB 

St.  Martin's  Summer 557 

A  Forgiveness 564 

Cenciaja         .        . 586 

FiLippo    Baldinucci    on    the    Privilege    of 

Burial 602 

Epilogue 632 


BALAUSTION'S    ADVENTURE 


INCLUDING 


A    TRANSCRIPT  FROM  EURIPIDES. 


To  the  Countess  Cowper. 

TF  I  mention  tlie  simple  truth :  that  this  Poem  absolutely  owes  its 
exisferue  to  you,  —  who  not  only  suggested,  but  imposed  on  me  as 
a  task,   what  has  proved  the  jnost  delightful  of  May-month  amuse- 
ments,—  /  shall  seem  honest,  indeed,  but  hardly  prudent ;  for  hffio 
good  and  beautiful  ought  such  a  poem  to  be  ! 

Euripides  might  fear  little  ;  but  I,  also,  have  an  interest  in  the  per- 
formance ;  and  what  wonder  if  J  beg  you  to  suffer  that  it  make,  in 
anotlwr  and  far  easier  sense,  its  nearest  possible  approach  to  those 
Creek  qualities  of  goodness  and  beauty,  by  laying  itself  gratefully  at 
your  feet  ? 

R.  B 
Loiidon,  July  23,  1871. 


OUR   EURIPIDES,   THE  HUMAN, 

WITH   HIS  DROPPINGS  OF  WARM  TEARS, 
AND   HIS  TOUCHES  OF  THINGS  COMMON 

TILL  THEY  ROSE  TO  TOUCH  THE   SPHERE& 


Balaustion's  Adventure. 


About  that  strangest,  saddest,  sweetest  song 
I,  when  a  girl,  heard  in  Kameiros  once, 
And,  after,  sav'ed  my  life  by  ?     Oh,  so  glad 
To  tell  you  the  adventure  ! 

Petals, 
Phullis,  Charope,  Chrusion  !     You  must  know, 
This  "  after  "  fell  in  that  unhappy  time 
When  poor  reluctant  Nikias,  pushed  by  fate, 
Went  falteringly  against  Syracuse  ; 
And  there  shamed  Athens,  lost  her  ships  and  men, 
And  gained  a  grave,  or  death  without  a  grave. 
T  was  at  Rhodes  —  the  isle,  not  Rhodes  the  town ; 

7 


8  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Mine  was  Kameiros  —  when  the  news  arrived  : 

Our  people  rose  in  tumult,  cried,  "  No  more 

Duty  to  Athens  !  let  us  join  the  League, 

And  side  with  Sparta,  share  the  spoil,  —  at  worst, 

Abjure  a  headship  that\^-ill  ruin  Greece  !  " 

And  so,  they  sent  to  Knidos  for  a  fleet 

To  come  and  help  revolters.     Ere  help  came,  — 

Girl  as  I  was,  and  never  out  of  Rhodes 

The  whole  of  my  first  fourteen  years  of  life, 

But  nourished  with  Ilissian  mother's-milk,  — 

I  passionately  cried  to  who  would  hear, 

And  those  who  loved  me  at  Kameiros,  "  No  ! 

Never  throw  Athens  off  for  Sparta's  sake,  — 

Never  disloyal  to  the  life  and  light 

Of  the  whole  world  worth  calling  world  at  all ! 

Rather  go  die  at  Athens,  lie  outstretched 

For  feet  to  trample  on,  before  the  gate 

Of  Diomedes  or  the  Hippadai, 

Before  the  temples  and  among  the  tombs, 

Than  tolerate  the  grim  felicity 

Of  harsh  Lakonia !     Ours  the  fasts  and  feasts, 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Choes  and  Chutroi ;  ours  the  sacred  grove, 

Agora,  Dikasteria,  Poikile, 

Puux,  Keramikos  ;  Salamis  in  sight  I 

Psuttalia,  Marathon  itself,  not  far ! 

Ours  the  great  Dionusiac  theatre, 

And  tragic  triad  of  immortal  fames, 

Aischulos,  Sophokles,  Euripides  ! 

To  Athens,  all  of  us  that  have  a  soul, 

Follow  me  ! "     And  1  wrought  so  with  my  prayer. 

That  certain  of  my  kinsfolk  crossed  the  strait, 

And  found  a  ship  at  Kaunos  ;  well-disposed 

Because  the  Captain  —  where  did  he  draw  breath 

First  but  within  Psuttalia  ?     Thither  fled 

A  few  like-minded  as  ourselves.     We  turned 

The  glad  prow  westward  ;  soon  were  out  at  sea. 

Pushing,  brave  ship  with  the  vermilion  cheek, 

Proud  for  our  heart's  true  harbor.     But  a  wind 

Lay  ambushed  by  Point  Malea  of  bad  fame, 

And  leapt  out,  bent  us  from  our  course.     Next  day 

Broke  stormless,  and  so  next  blue  day  and  next. 

"  But  whither  bound  in  this  white  waste  ? "  we  plagued 


lO  PALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

The  pilot's  old  experience  :  "  Cos,  or  Crete  ?  " 

Because  he  promised  us  the  land  ahead. 

While  we  strained  eyes  to  share  in  what  he  saw, 

The  captain's  shout  startled  us ;  round  we  rushed  : 

What  hung  behind  us  but  a  pirate-ship 

Panting  for  the  good  prize  ?     "  Row !  harder  row  1 

Row  for  dear  life !  "  the  captain  cried :  "  'tis  Crete, 

Friendly  Crete,  looming  large  there !     Beat  this  craft, 

That's  but  a  keles,  one-benched  pirate-bark, 

Lokrian,  or  that  bad  breed  off  Thessaly  ! 

Only,  so  cruel  are  such  water-thieves, 

No  man  of  you,  no  woman,  child,  or  slave, 

But  falls  their  prey,  once  let  them  board  our  boat !  " 

So,  furiously  our  oarsmen  rowed  and  rowed  ; 

And  when  the  oars  flagged  somewhat,  dash  and  dip, 

As  we  approached  the  coast  and  safety,  so 

That  we  could  hear  behind  us  plain  the  threats 

And  curses  of  the  pirate  panting  up 

In  one  more  throe  and  passion  of  pursuit,  — 

Seeing  our  oars  flag  in  the  rise  and  fall, 

I  sprang  upon  the  altar  by  the  mast, 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  1 1 

And  sang  aloft  —  some  genius  prompting  me  — 
That  song  of  ours  which  saved  at  Salarais  : 
"  O  sons  of  Greeks  !  go,  set  your  country  free, 
Free  your  wives,  free  your  children,  free  the  fanes 
O'  the  gods,  your  fathers  founded,  —  sepulchres 
They  sleep  in  !     Or  save  all,  or  all  be  lost ! " 
Then,  in  a  frenzy,  so  the  noble  oars 
Churned  tlie  black  water  white,  that  well  away 
We  drew,  soon  saw  land  rise,  saw  hills  grow  up. 
Saw  spread  itself  a  sea-wide  town  with  towers. 
Not  fifty  stadio  distant ;  and,  betwixt, 
A  large  bay  and  a  small,  the  islet-bar. 
Even  Ortugia's  self —  oh,  luckless  we ! 
For  here  was  Sicily  and  Syracuse  : 
We  ran  upon  the  lion  from  the  wolf. 
Ere  we  drew  breath,  took  counsel,  out  there  came 
A  galley,  hailed  us :     "  Who  asks  entry  here 
In  war-time  ?     Are  you  Sparta's  friend  or  foe  ?  " 
"  Kaunians,"  —  our  captain  judged  his  best  reply, 
'  The  mainland-seaport  that  belongs  to  Rhodes  ; 
Rhodes  that  casts  in  her  lot  now  with  the  League, 


12  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Forsaking  Athens,  —  you  have  heard  belike  !  " 

"  Ay,  but  we  heard  all  Athens  in  one  ode 

Just  now  !  we  heard  her  in  that  Aischulos  ! 

You  bring  a  boatful  of  Athenians  here, 

Kaunians  although  you  be  ;  and  prudence  bid" 

For  Kaunos'  sake,  why,  carry  them  unhurt 

To  Kaunos,  if  you  will :  for  Athens'  sake, 

Back  must  you,  though  ten  pirates  blocked  the  bay  ! 

We  want  no  colony  from  Athens  here. 

With  memories  of  Salamis,  forsooth, 

To  spirit  up  our  captives,  that  pale  crowd 

I'  the  quarry,  whom  the  daily  pint  of  corn 

Keeps  in  good  order  and  submissiveness." 

Then  the  gray  captain  prayed  them  by  the  gods. 

And  by  their  own  knees,  and  their  fathers'  beards, 

They  should  not  wickedly  thrust  suppliants  back, 

But  save  the  innocent  on  traffic  bound, — 

Or,  maybe,  some  Athenian  family 

Perishing  of  desire  to  die  at  home,  — 

From  that  vile  foe  still  lying  on  its  oars. 

Waiting  the  issue  in  the  distance.     Vain  1 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  1 3 

Words  to  the  wind  !     And  we  were  just  about 

To  turn  and  face  the  foe,  as  some  tired  bird 

Barbarians  pelt  at,  drive  with  shouts  away 

From  shelter  in  what  rocks,  however  rude 

She  makes  for,  to  escape  the  kindled  eye, 

Split  beak,  crook'd  claw,  o'  the  creature,  cormorant, 

Or  ossifrage,  that,  hardly  baffled,  hangs 

Afloat  i'  the  foam,  to  take  her  if  she  turn. 

So  were  we  at  destruction's  very  edge, 

When  those  o'  the  galley,  as  they  had  discussed 

A  point,  a  question  raised  by  somebody, 

A  matter  mooted  in  a  moment,  —  "  Wait !  " 

Cried  they  (and  wait  we  did,  you  may  be  sure), 

"  That  song  was  veritable  Aischulos, 

Familiar  to  the  mouth  of  man  and  boy, 

Old  glory  :  how  about  Euripides  ? 

The  newer  and  not  yet  so  famous  bard. 

He  that  was  born  upon  the  battle-day 

While  that  song  and  the  salpinx  sounded  him 

Into  the  world,  first  sound,  at  Salamis  — 

Might  5-ou  know  any  of  his  verses  too  ?  " 


14  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Now,  some  one  of  the  gods  inspired  this  speech  : 

Since  ourselves  knew  what  happened  but  last  year  — 

How,  when  GuJippos  gained  his  victory 

Over  poor  Nikias,  poor  Demosthenes, 

And  Syracuse  condemned  the  conquered  force 

To  dig  and  starve  i'  the  quarry,  branded  them  — 

Freeborn  Athenians,  brute-like  in  the  front 

With  horse-head  brands,  —  ah,  "  Region  of  the  Steed  ! '' 

Of  all  these  men  immersed  in  misery. 

It  was  found  none  had  been  advantaged  so 

By  aught  in  the  past  life  he  used  to  prize 

And  pride  himself  concerning,  —  no  rich  man 

By  riches,  no  wise  man  by  wisdom,  no 

Wiser  man  still  (as  who  loved  more  the  Muse) 

By  storing,  at  brain's  edge  and  tip  of  tongue, 

Old  glory,  great  plays  that  had  long  ago 

Made  themselves  wings  to  fly  about  the  world, — 

Not  one  such  man  was  helped  so  at  his  need 

As  certain  few  that  (wisest  they  of  all) 

Had,  at  first  summons,  oped  heart,  flung  door  wide. 

At  the  new  knocking  of  Euripides, 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  1$ 

Nor  drawn  the  bolt  with  who  cried  "  Decadence  ! 

And,  after  Sophokles,  be  nature  dumb  !  " 

Such,  —  and  I  see  in  it  God  Bacchos'  boon 

To  souls  that  recognized  his  latest  child, 

He  who  himself,  born  latest  of  the  gods, 

Was  stoutly  held  impostor  by  mankind,  — 

Such  were  in  safety  :  any  who  could  speak 

A  chorus  to  the  end,  or  prologize, 

Roll  out  a  rhesis,  wield  some  golden  length 

Stiffened  by  wisdom  out  into  a  line, 

Or  thrust  and  parry  in  bright  monostich, 

Teaching  Euripides  to  Syracuse  — 

Any  such  happy  man  had  prompt  reward : 

If  he  lay  bleeding  on  the  battle-field 

They  stanched  his  wounds,  and   gave   him   drink   and 

food ; 
If  he  were  slave  i'  the  house,  for  reverence 
They  rose  up,  bowed  to  who  proved  master  now, 
And  bade  him  go  free,  thank  Euripides ! 
Ay,  and  such  did  so :  many  such,  he  said. 
Returning  home  to  Athens,  sought  him  out, 


t6  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

The  old  bard  in  the  solitary  house, 

And  thanked  him  ere  they  went  to  sacrifice. 

I  say,  we  knew  that  story  of  last  year ! 

Therefore,  at  mention  of  Euripides, 
The  captain  crowed  out  "  Euoi,  praise  the  God  ! 
Oop,  boys,  bring  our  owl-shield  to  the  fore  ! 
Out  with  our  Sacred  Anchor !     Here  she  stands, 
Balaustion  !     Strangers,  greet  the  lyric  girl  ! 
Euripides  ?     Babai !  what  a  word  there  'scaped 
Your  teeth's  enclosure,  quoth  my  grandsire's  song  I 
Why,  fast  as  snow  in  Thrace,  the  voyage  through, 
Has  she  been  falling  thick  in  flakes  of  him  ! 
Frequent  as  figs  at  Kaunos,  Kaunians  said. 
Balaustion,  stand  forth  and  confirm  my  speech  I 
Now  it  was  some  whole  passion  of  a  play  ; 
Now,  peradventure,  but  a  honey-drop 
That  slipt  its  comb  i'  the  chorus.     If  there  rose 
A  star,  before  I  could  determine  steer 
Southward  or  northward  —  if  a  cloud  surprised 
Heaven,  ere  I  fairly  hollaed  '  Furl  the  sail ! '  — 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  1? 

She  had  at  finger's  end  both  cloud  and  star ; 

Some  thought  that  perched  there,  tame  and  tuneable, 

Fitted  with  wings  \  and  still,  as  off  it  flew, 

*  So  sang  Euripides,'  she  said,  *  so  sang 

The  meteoric  poet  of  air  and  sea. 

Planets  and  the  pale  populace  of  heaven, 

The  mind  of  man,  and  all  that's  made  to  soar  ! ' 

And  so,  although  she  has  some  other  name, 

We  only  call  her  Wild-pomegranate-flower, 

Balaustion  ;  since,  where'er  the  red  bloom  bums 

I'  the  dull  dark  verdure  of  the  bounteous  tree. 

Dethroning,  in  the  Rosy  Isle,  the  rose. 

You  shall  find  food,  drink,  odor,  all  at  once  ; 

Cool  leaves  to  bind  about  an  aching  brow, 

And,  never  much  away,  the  nightingale. 

Sing  them  a  strophe,  with  the  turn-again, 

Down  to  the  verse  that  ends  all,  proverb-like. 

And  save  us,  thou  Balaustion,  bless  the  name  1 " 

But  I  cried,  "  Brother  Greek  !  better  than  so, — 
Save  us,  and  I  have  courage  to  recite 


l8  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

The  main  of  a  whole  play  from  first  to  last ; 

That  strangest,  saddest,  sweetest  song  of  his, 

Alkestis  ;  which  was  taught,  long  years  ago 

At  Athens,  in  Glaukinos'  archonship. 

But  only  this  year  reached  our  Isle  o'  the  Rose. 

I  saw  it  at  Kameiros  ;  played  the  same, 

They  say,  as  for  the  right  Lenean  feast 

In  Athens  ;  and  beside  the  perfect  piece,  — 

Its  beauty  and  the  way  it  makes  you  weep,  — 

There  is  much  honor  done  your  own  loved  God 

Herakles,  whom  you  house  i'  the  city  here 

Nobly,  the  Temple  wide  Greece  talks  about  1 

I  come  a  suppliant  to  3'our  Herakles  ! 

Take  me  and  put  me  on  his  temple-steps, 

To  tell  you  his  achievement  as  I  may. 

And,  that  told,  he  shall  bid  you  set  us  free  !  " 

Then,  because  Greeks  are  Greeks,  and  hearts  are  hearts, 
And  poetry  is  power,  —  they  all  outbroke 
In  a  great  joyous  laughter  with  much  love  : 
"  Thank  Herakles  for  the  good  holiday  ! 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  I9 

Make  for  the  harbor  !     Row,  and  let  voice  ring, 
'  In  we  row,  bringing  more  Euripides  ! ' 
All  the  crowd,  as  they  lined  the  harbor  now, 
*  More  of  Euripides  ! '  —  took  up  the  cry. 
We  landed  ;  the  whole  city,  soon  astir, 
Came  rushing  out  of  gates  in"  common  joy 
To  the  suburb  temple  ;  there  they  stationed  me 
O'  the  topmosf'step  :  and  plain  I  told  the  play, 
Just  as  I  saw  it ;  what  the  actors  said, 
And  what  I  saw,  or  thought  I  saw  the  while, 
At  our  Kameiros  theatre,  clean-scooped 
Out  of  a  hill-side,  with  the  sky  above 
And  sea  before  our  seats  in  marble  row : 
Told  it,  and,  two  days  more,  repeated  it. 
Until  they  sent  us  on  our  way  again 
With  good  words  and  great  wishes. 

Oh,  for  me  !  — 
A  wealthy  Syracusan  brought  a  whole 
Talent,  and  bade  me  take  it  for  myself : 
I  left  it  on  the  tripod  in  the  fane,  — 
For  had  not  Herakles  a  second  f'me 


20  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Wrestled  with  Death,  and  saved  devoted  ones  ?  — 

Thank-offering  to  the  hero.     And  a  band 

Of  captives,  whom  their  lords  grew  kinder  to 

Because  they  called  the  poet  countryman, 

Sent  me  a  crown  of  wild-pomegranate-flower : 

So,  I  shall  live  and  die  Balaustion  now. 

But   one  —  one   man  —  one   youth,  —  three   days,  each 

day,  —  ^ 

(If,  ere  I  lifted  up  my  voice  to  speak, 
I  gave  a  downward  glance  by  accident) 
Was  found  at  foot  o'  the  temple.     When  we  sailed, 
There,  in  the  ship,  too,  was  he  found  as  well. 
Having  a  hunger  to  see  Athens  too. 
We  reached  Peiraieus  ;  when  I  landed  —  lo, 
He  was  beside  me.     Anthesterion-month 
Is  just  commencing :  when  its  moon  rounds  full, 
We  are  to  marry.     O  Euripides ! 
I  saw  the  master :  when  we  found  ourselves 
(Because  the  young  man  needs  must  follow  me) 
Firm  on  Peiraieus,  I  demanded  first 
Whither  to  go  and  find  him.     Would  you  think  ? 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  21 

The  story  how  he  saved  us  made  some  smile  : 

They  wondered  strangers  were  exorbitant 

In  estimation  of  Euripides. 

He  was  not  Aischulos  nor  Sophokles : 

—  '■  Then,  of  our  younger  bards  who  boast  the  bay, 

Had  I  sought  Agathon,  or  lophon. 

Or,  what  now  had  it  been  Kephisophon  ? 

A  man  that  never  kept  good  company, 

The  most  unsociable  of  poet-kind, 

All  beard  that  was  not  freckle  in  his  face ! " 

I  soon  was  at  the  tragic  house,  and  saw 

The  master,  held  the  sacred  hand  of  him, 

And  laid  it  to  my  lips.     Men  love  him  not : 

How  should  they  ?     Nor  do  they  much  love  his  friend 

Sokrates  :  but  those  two  have  fellowship ; 

Sokrates  often  comes  to  hear  him  read, 

And  never  misses  if  he  teach  a  piece. 

Both,  being  old,  will  soon  have  company, 

Sit  with  their  peers  above  the  talk.     Meantime, 

He  lives  as  should  a  statue  in  its  niche ; 


22  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Cold  walls  enclose  him,  mostly  darkness  there, 
Alone,  unless  some  foreigner  uncouth 
Breaks  in,  sits,  stares  an  hour,  and  so  departs, 
Brain-stuffed  with  something  to  sustain  his  life. 
Dry  to  the  marrow  'mid  much  merchandize. 
How  should  such  know  and  love  the  man  ? 

Why,  mark! 
Even  when  I  told  the  play  and  got  the  praise. 
There  spoke  up  a  brisk  little  somebody, 
Critic  and  whippersnapper,  in  a  rage 
To  set  things  right :  "  The  girl  departs  from  truth  ! 
Pretends  she  saw  what  was  not  to  be  seen. 
Making  the  mask  of  the  actor  move,  forsooth ! 
'  Then  a  fear  flitted  o'er  the  wife's  white  face,'  — 
'  Then  frowned  the  father,'  — '  then  the  husband  shook,' - 
'  Then  from  the  festal  forehead  slipt  each  spray, 
'  And  the  heroic  mouth's  gay  grace  was  gone ;  * 
As  she  had  seen  each  naked  fleshly  face. 
And  not  the  merely-painted  mask  it  wore  !  " 
Well,  is  the  explanation  difficult  ? 
What's  poetry  except  a  power  that  makes  ? 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  23 

And,  speaking  to  one  sense,  inspires  the  rest, 

Pressing  them  all  into  its  service ;  so 

That  who  sees  painting,  seems  to  hear  as  well 

The  speech  that's  proper  for  the  painted  mouth ; 

And  who  hears  music,  feels  his  solitude 

Peopled  at  once —  for  how  count  heart-beats  plain 

Unless  a  company,  with  hearts  which  beat. 

Come  close  to  the  musician,  seen  or  no  ? 

And  who  receives  true  verse  at  eye  or  ear. 

Takes  in  (with  verse)  time,  place,  and  person  too, 

So,  links  each  sense  on  to  its  sister-sense, 

Grace-like  :  and  what  if  but  one  sense  of  three 

Front  you  at  once  ?    The  sidelong  pair  conceive 

Through  faintest  touch  of  finest  finger-tips  — 

Hear,  see,  and  feel,  in  faith's  simplicity. 

Alike,  what  one  was  sole  recipient  of : 

Who  hears  the  poem,  therefore,  sees  the  play. 

Enough  and  too  much  !     Hear  the  play  itself  t 
Under  the  grape-vines,  by  the  streamlet-side, 
Close  to  Baccheion  ;  till  the  cool  increase. 


24  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

And  other  stars  steal  on  the  evening-star, 

And  so,  we  homeward  flock  i'  the  dusk,  we  five  ! 

You  will  expect,  no  one  of  all  the  words 

O'  the  play  but  is  grown  part  now  of  my  soul, 

Since  the  adventure.     'Tis  the  poet  speaks  : 

But  if  I,  too,  should  try  and  speak  at  times, 

Leading  your  love  to  where  my  love,  perchance, 

Climbed  earlier,  found  a  nest  before  you  knew  — 

Why,  bear  with  the  poor  climber,  for  love's  sake ! 

Look  at  Baccheion's  beauty  opposite. 

The  temple  with  the  pillars  at  the  porch ! 

See  you  not  something  beside  masonry  ? 

What  if  my  words  wind  in  and  out  the  stone 

As  yonder  ivy,  the  god's  parasite  ? 

Though  they  leap  all  the  way  the  pillar  leads, 

Festoon  about  the  marble,  foot  to  frieze. 

And  serpentiningly  enrich  the  roof. 

Toy  with  some  few  bees  and  a  bird  or  two,  — 

What  then  ?    The  column  holds  the  cornice  up  f 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  2$ 


There  slept  a  silent  palace  in  the  sun, 

With  plains  adjacent  and  Thessalian  peace  — 

Pherai,  where  King  Admetos  ruled  the  land. 

Out  from  the  portico  there  gleamed  a  god, 

Apollon  :  for  the  bow  was  in  his  hand, 

The  quiver  at  his  shoulder,  all  his  shape 

One  dreadful  beauty.     And  he  hailed  the  house, 

As  if  he  knew  it  well  and  loved  it  much  : 

"  O  Admeteian  domes !  where  I  endured, 

Even  the  god  I  am,  to  drudge  a  while, 

Accepting  the  slave's  table  thankfully, 

Do  righteous  penance  for  a  reckless  deed  ! " 

Then  told  how  Zeus  had  been  the  cause  of  all, 

Raising  the  wrath  in  him  which  took  revenge, 

And  slew  those  forgers  of  the  thunderbolt 

Wherewith  Zeus  blazed  the  life  from  out  the  breast 

Of  Phoibos'  son  Asklepios  (I  surmise, 


26  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Because  he  brought  the  dead  to  life  again), 

And  so,  for  punishment,  must  needs  go  slave, 

God  as  he  was,  with  a  mere  mortal  lord : 

—  Told  how  he  came  to  King  Admetos'  land, 

And  played  the  ministrant,  was  herdsman  there, 

Warding  from  him  and  his  all  harm  away 

Till  now ;  "  For,  holy  as  I  am,"  said  he, 

"  The  lord  I  chanced  upon  was  holy  too  : 

Whence  I  deceived  the  Moirai,  drew  from  death 

My  master,  this  same  son  of  Pheres,  —  ay, 

The  goddesses  conceded  him  escape 

From  Hades,  when  the  fated  day  should  fall, 

Could  he  exchange  lives,  find  some  friendly  one 

Ready,  for  his  sake,  to  content  the  grave. 

But  trying  all  in  turn,  the  friendly  list. 

Why,  he  found  no  one,  none  who  loved  so  much, 

Nor  father,  nor  the  aged  mother's  self 

That  bore  him,  no,  not  any  save  his  wife, 

Willing  to  die  instead  of  him,  and  watch 

Never  a  sunrise  nor  a  sunset  more  ; 

And  she  is  even  now  within  the  house. 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  2,1 

Upborne  by  pitying  hands,  the  feeble  frame 

Gasping  its  last  of  life  out ;  since  to-day 

Destiny  is  accomplished,  and  she  dies ; 

And  I,  lest  here  pollution  light  on  me, 

Leave,  as  ye  witness,  all  my  wonted  joy 

In  this  dear  dwelling.     Ay,. —  for  here  comes  Death 

Close  on  us  of  a  sudden  !  who,  pale  priest 

Of  the  mute  people,  means  to  bear  his  prey 

To  the  house  of  Hades.     The  symmetric  step ! 

How  he  treads  true  to  time  and  place  and  thing, 

Dogging  day,  hour,  and  minute,  for  death's-due  ! " 

And  we  observed  another  deity, 

Half  in,  half  out  the  portal,  —  watch  and  ward,  — 

Eying  his  fellow  :  formidably  fixed. 

Yet  faltering  too  at  who  affronted  him. 

As  somehow  disadvantaged,  should  they  strive. 

Like  some  dread  heapy  blackness,  ruffled  wing, 

Convulsed  and  cowering  head  that  is  all  eye, 

Which  proves  a  ruined  eagle,  who,  too  blind 

Swooping  in  quest  o'  the  quarr}'^  fawn,  or  kid, 

Descried  deep  down  the  chasm  'twixt  rock  and  rock, 


28  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Has  wedged  and  mortised,  into  either  wall 

0'  the  mountain,  the  pent  earthquake  of  his  power ; 

So  lies,  half  hurtless  yet  still  terrible, 

Just  when  who  stalks  up,  who  stands  front  to  front, 

But  the  great  lion-guarder  of  the  gorge, 

r^ord  of  the  ground,  a  stationed  glory  there ! 

Yet  he  too  pauses  ere  he  try  the  worst 

0'  the  frightful  unfamiliar  nature,  new 

To  the  chasm,  indeed,  but  elsewhere  known  enough, 

Among  the  shadows  and  the  silences 

Above  i'  the  sky  :  so,  each  antagonist 

Silently  faced  his  fellow  and  forbore. 

Till  Death  shrilled,  hard  and  quick,  in  spite  and  fear 

"  Ha,  ha !  and  what  may'st  thou  do  at  the  domes, 
Why  hauntest  here,  thou  Phoibos  ?     Here  again 
At  the  old  injustice,  limiting  our  rights, 
Balking  of  honor  due  us  gods  o'  the  grave ! 
Was  't  not  enough  for  thee  to  have  delayed 
Death  from  Admetos,  —  with  thy  crafty  art 
Cheating  the  very  Fates,  — but  thou  must  arm 


BALAUSTIOiV'S  ADVENTURE.  29 

The  bow-hand  and  take  station,  press  'twixt  me 
And  Pelias'  daughter,  who  then  saved  her  spouse,  — 
Did  just  that,  now  thou  comest  to  undo,  — 
Taking  his  place  to  die,  Alkestis  here  ? " 
But  the  god  sighed,  "  Have  courage  !     All  my  arms, 
This  time,  are  simple  justice  and  fair  words." 

Then  each  plied  each  with  rapid  interchange  : 

"  What  need  of  bow  were  justice  arms  enough  ? " 

"  Ever  it  is  my  wont  to  bear  the  bow." 

"  Ay,  and  with  bow,  not  justice,  help  this  house  !  " 

"  I  help  it,  since  a  friend's  woe  weighs  me  too." 

"  And  now,  —  wilt  force  from  me  this  second  corpse  ? 

*  By  force  I  took  no  corpse  at  first  ff^m  thee." 


3©  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

"  How  then  is  he  above  ground,  not  beneath  ?  ** 

"  He  gave  his  wife  instead  of  hina,  thy  prey," 

"  And  prey,  this  time  at  least,  I  bear  below  I  " 

"  Go  take  her !  — for  I  doubt  persuading  thee  ..." 

"  To  kill  the  doomed  one  ?    What  my  function  else  ? " 

"  No  !     Rather,  to  despatch  the  true  mature," 

"  Truly  I  take  thy  meaning,  see  thy  drift ! " 

"  Is  there  a  way  then  she  may  reach  old  age  ? " 

"  No  way  !  I  glad  me  in  my  honors  too  !  " 

"  But,  young  or  old,  thou  tak'st  one  life,  no  more  ? " 

"  Younger  they  die,  greater  my  praise  redounds  1  '* 


BALA  us  no  AT 'S  ADVENTURE.  3' 

"If  she  die  old,  —  the  sumptuous  funeral ! " 

"  Thou  layest  down  a  law  the  rich  would  like." 

"  How  so  ?     Did  wit  lurk  there  and  'scape  thy  sense  ? " 

"Who  could  buy  substitutes  would  die  old  men." 

"  It  seems  thou  wilt  not  grant  me,  then,  this  grace  ? " 

"  This  grace  I  will  not  grant :  thou  know'st  ray  ways." 

"  Ways  harsh  to  men,  hateful  to  gods,  at  least !  " 

'*  All  things  thou  canst  not  have :  my  rights  for  me  1 " 

And  then  Apollon  prophesied,  —  I  think, 
More  to  himself  than  to  impatient  Death, 
Who  did  not  hear  or  would  not  heed  the  while,  — 
For  he  went  on  to  say,  "  Yet  even  so, 
Cruel  above  the  measure,  thou  shalt  clutch 


$2  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

No  life  here  !     Such  a  man  do  I  perceive 
Advancing  to  the  house  of  Pheres  now, 
Sent  by  Eurustheus  to  bring  out  of  Thrace, 
The  winter  world,  a  chariot  with  its  steeds  I 
He  indeed,  when  Admetos  proves  the  host. 
And  he  the  guest,  at  the  house  here,  —  he  it  is 
Shall  bring  to  bear  such  force,  and  from  thy  hands 
Rescue  this  woman !     Grace  no  whit  to  me 
Will  that  prove,  since  thou  dost  thy  deed  the  same, 
And  earnest  too  my  hate,  and  all  for  nought ! " 

But  how  should  Death  or  stay  or  understand  ? 

Doubtless,  he  only  felt  the  hour  was  come, 

And  the  sword  free  ;  for  he  but  flung  some  taunt,  — 

"  Having  talked  much,  thou  wilt  not  gain  the  more ! 

This  woman  then  descends  to  Hades'  hall 

Now  that  I  rush  on  her,  begin  the  rites 

O'  the  sword ;  for  sacred  to  us  gods  below. 

That  head  whose  hair  this  sword  shall  sanctify  I " 

And,  in  the  fire-flash  of  the  appalling  sword. 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  33 

The  uprush  and  the  outburst,  the  onslaught 
Of  Death's  portentous  passage  through  the  door, 
Apollon  stood  a  pitying  moment-space : 
I  caught  one  last  gold  gaze  upon  the  night 
Nearing  the  world  now :  and  the  god  was  gone, 
And  mortals  left  to  deal  with  misery ; 
As  in  came  stealing  slow,  now  this,  now  that 
Old  sojourner  throughout  the  country-side, 
Servants  grown  friends  to  those  unhappy  here  : 
And,  cloudlike  in  their  increase,  all  these  griefs 
Broke  and  began  the  over-brimming  wail, 
Out  of  a  common  impulse,  word  by  word. 

"  Whatever  means  the  silence  at  the  door  ? 
Why  is  Admetos'  mansion  stricken  dumb  ? 
Not  one  friend  near,  to  say  if  we  should  mourn 
Our  mistress  dead,  or  still  Alkestis  live 
And  see  the  light  here,  Pelias'  child  —  to  me, 
To  all,  conspicuously  the  best  of  wives 
That  ever  was  toward  husband  in  this  world  1 
Hears  any  one  or  wail  beneath  the  roof, 


54  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Or  hands  that  strike  each  other,  or  the  groan 

Announcing  all  is  done  and  nought  to  dread  ? 

Still  not  a  servant  stationed  at  the  gates  1 

O  Paian,  that  thou  would'st  dispart  the  wave 

O'  the  woe,  be  present !     Yet,  had  woe  o'er  whelmed 

The  housemates,  they  were  hardly  silent  thus  : 

It  cannot  be,  the  dead  is  forth  and  gone. 

Wlience  comes  thy  gleam  of  hope  ?  I  dare  not  hope  : 

What  is  the  circumstance  that  heartens  thee  ? 

How  could  Admetos  have  dismissed  a  wife 

So  worthy,  unescorted  to  the  grave  ? 

Before  the  gates  I  see  no  hallowed  vase 

Of  fountain-water,  such  as  suits  death's  door ; 

Nor  any  dipt  locks  strew  the  vestibule. 

Though  surely  these  drop  when  we  grieve  the  dead  : 

Nor  sounds  hand  smitten  against  youthful  hand, 

The  woman's  way.     And  yet  —  the  appointed  time  - 

How  speak  the  word  ?  —  this  day  is  even  the  day 

Ordained  her  for  departing  from  its  light. 

O  touch  calamitous  to  heart  and  soul ! 

Needs  must  one,  when  the  good  are  tortured  so, 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  35 

Sorrow,  —  one  reckoned  faithful  from  the  first** 

Then  their  souls  rose  together,  and  one  sigh 

Went  up  in  cadence  from  the  common  mouth : 

How  "Vainly  —  any  whither  in  the  world 

Directing  or  land-labor  or  sea-search  — 

To  Lukia  or  the  sand-waste,  Ammon's  seat  — 

Might  you  set  free  their  hapless  lady's  soul 

From  the  abrupt  Fate's  footstep  instant  now. 

Not  a  sheep-sacrificer  at  the  hearths 

Of  gods  had  they  to  go  to :  one  there  was 

Who,  if  his  eyes  saw  light  still,  —  Phoibos'  son,  — 

Had  wrought  so,  she  might  leave  the  shadowy  place 

And  Hades'  portal ;  for  he  propped  up  Death's 

Subdued  ones,  till  tlie  Zeus-flung  thunder-flame 

Struck  him :  and  now  what  hope  of  life  to  hail 

With  open  arms  ?    For  all  the  king  could  do 

Is  done  already,  —  not  one  god  whereof 

The  altar  fails  to  reek  with  sacrifice : 

And  for  assuagement  of  these  evils  —  nought  1 " 


36  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

But  here  they  broke  off ;  for  a  matron  moved 

Forth  from  the  house  :  and,  as  her  tears  flowed  fast, 

They  gathered  round.     "  What  fortune  shall  we  hear  ? 

To  mourn  indeed,  if  aught  affect  thy  lord, 

We  pardon  thee :  but  lives  the  lady  yet, 

Or  has  she  perished  ?  —  that  we  fain  would  know !  " 

"  Call  her  dead,  call  her  living,  each  style  serves," 

The   matron    said:    "though  grave-wards    bowed,    she 

breathed  ; 
Nor  knew  her  husband  what  the  misery  meant 
Before  he  felt  it :  hope  of  life  was  none : 
The  appointed  day  pressed  hard  ;  the  funeral  pomp 
He  had  prepared  too." 

When  the  friends  broke  out, 
"  Let  her  in  dying  know  herself  at  least 
Sole  wife,  of  all  the  wives  'neath  the  sun  wide, 
For  glory  and  for  goodness  !  "  —  "  Ah,  how  else 
Than  best  ?  who  controverts  the  claim  ?  "  quoth  she  : 
■''  What  kind  of  creature  should  the  woman  prove 
That  has  surpassed  Alkestis  ?  —  surelier  shown 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  37 

Preference  for  her  husband  to  herself 
Than  by  determining  to  die  for  him  ? 
But  so  much  all  our  city  knows  indeed : 
Hear  what  she  did  indoors  and  wonder  then  I 
For,  when  she  felt  the  crowning  day  was  come, 
She  washed  with  river-waters  her  white  skin, 
And,  taking  from  the  cedar  closets  forth 
Vesture  and  ornament,  bedecked  herself 
Nobly,  and  stood  before  the  hearth,  and  prayed : 
'  Mistress,  because  I  now  depart  the  world, 
Falling  before  thee  the  last  time,  I  ask  — 
Be  mother  to  my  orphans  1  wed  the  one 
To  a  kind  wife,  and  make  the  other's  mate 
Some  princely  person  :  nor,  as  I  who  bore 
My  children  perish,  suffer  that  they  too 
Die  all  untimely,  but  live,  happy  pair. 
Their  full  glad  life  out  in  the  fatherland  ! ' 
And  every  altar  through  Admetos'  house 
She  visited  and  crowned  and  prayed  before. 
Stripping  the  myrtle-foliage  from  the  boughs, 
VVithout  a  tear,  without  a  groan,  —  no  change 


38  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

At  all  to  that  skin's  nature,  fair  to  see, 

Caused  by  the  imminent  evil.     But  this  done,  — 

Reaching  her  chamber,  falling  on  her  bed, 

There,  truly,  burst  she  into  tears  and  spoke : 

'  O  bride-bed !  where  I  loosened  from  my  life 

Virginity  for  that  same  husband's  sake 

Because  of  whom  I  die  now  —  fare  thee  well  1 

Since  nowise  do  I  hate  thee  :  me  alone 

Hast  thou  destroyed  ;  for,  shrinking  to  betray 

Thee  and  my  spouse,  I  die  :  but  thee,  O  bed  ! 

Some  other  woman  shall  possess  as  wife  — 

Truer,  no !  but  of  better  fortune,  say  ! 

—  So  falls  on,  kisses  it  till  all  the  couch 

Is  moistened  with  the  eye's  sad  overflow. 

But,  when  of  many  tears  she  had  her  fill, 

She  flings  from  off  the  couch,  goes  headlong  forth. 

Yet,  —  forth  the  chamber,  —  still  keeps  turning  back 

And  casts  her  on  the  couch  again  once  more. 

Her  children,  clinging  to  their  mother's  robe, 

Wept  meanwhile :  but  she  took  them  in  her  arms, 

A.nd,  as  a  dying  woman  might,  embraced 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  39 

Now  one  and  now  the  other  :  'neath  the  roof, 
All  of  the  household  servants  wept  as  well, 
Moved  to  compassion  for  their  mistress  ;  she 
Extended  her  right  hand  to  all  and  each, 
And  there  was  no  one  of  such  low  degree 
She  spoke  not  to  nor  had  an  answer  from. 
Such  are  the  evils  in  Admetos'  house. 
Dying,  —  why,  he  had  died  ;  but,  living,  gains 
Such  grief  as  this  he  never  will  forget  I  " 
And  when  they  questioned  of  Admetos,  "  Well  — 
Holding  his  dear  wife  in  his  hands,  he  weeps  ; 
Entreats  her  not  to  give  him  up,  and  seeks 
The  impossible,  in  fine  :  for  there  she  wastes 
And  withers  by  disease,  abandoned  now, 
A  mere  dead  weight  upon  her  husband's  arm. 
Yet  none  the  less,  although  she  breaths  so  faint, 
Her  will  is  to  behold  the  beams  o'  the  sun : 
Since  never  more  again,  but  this  last  once. 
Shall  she  see  sun,  its  circlet  or  its  ray. 
But  I  will  go,  announce  your  presence,  —  friends 
Indeed ;  since  'tis  not  all  so  love  their  lords 


40  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

As  seek  them  in  misfortune,  kind  the  same : 
But  you  are  the  old  friends  I  recognize." 

And  at  the  word  she  turned  again  to  go : 

The  while  they  waited,  taking  up  the  plaint 

To  Zeus  again  :  "  What  passage  from  this  strait  ? 

What  loosing  of  the  heavy  fortune  fast 

About  the  palace  ?    Will  such  help  appear, 

Or  must  we  clip  the  locks,  and  cast  around 

Each  form  already  the  black  peplos'  fold  ? 

Clearly  the  black  robe,  clearly !     All  the  same 

Pray  to  the  gods  !  —  like  gods'  no  power  so  great ! 

O  thou  King  Paian,  find  some  way  to  save  ! 

Reveal  it,  yea,  reveal  it !     Since  of  old 

Thou  found'st  a  cure,  why,  now  again  become 

Releaser  from  the  bonds  of  Death,  we  beg, 

And  give  the  sanguinary  Hades  pause  !  " 

So  the  song  dwindled  into  a  mere  moan  ; 

How  dear  the  wife,  and  what  her  husband's  woe  ; 

When  suddenly  — 

"  Behold,  behold  ! "  breaks  forth 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  4' 

"  Here  is  she  coming  from  the  house  indeed ! 
Her  husband  comes,  too  !     Cry  aloud,  lament, 
Pheraian  land,  this  best  of  women,  bound  — 
So  is  she  withered  by  disease  away  — 
For  realms  below  and  their  infernal  king ! 
Never  will  we  affirm  there's  more  of  joy 
Than  grief  in  marriage  ;  making  estimate 
Both  from  old  sorrows  anciently  observed, 
And  this  misfortune  of  the  king  we  see  — 
Admetos  who,  of  bravest  spouse  bereaved, 
Will  live  life's  remnant  out,  no  life  at  all ! " 

So  wailed  they,  while  a  sad  procession  wound 
Slow  from  the  innermost  o'  the  palace,  stopped 
At  the  extreme  verge  of  the  platform-front : 
There  opened,  a^  disclosed  Alkestis'  self, 
The  consecrated  lady,  borne  to  look 
Her  last —  and  let  the  living  look  their  last — 
She  at  the  sun,  we  at  Alkestis. 

We 
For  would  you  note  a  memorable  thing  ? 


4^  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

We  grew  to  see  ia  that  severe  regard,  — 

Hear  in  that  hard  dry  pressure  to  the  point, 

Word  slow  pursuing  word  in  monotone,  — 

Wliat  Death  meant  when  he  called  her  consecrate 

Henceforth  to  Hades.     I  believe,  the  sword  — 

Its  office  was  to  cut  the  soul  at  once 

From  life,  —  from  something  in  this  world  which  hides 

Truth,  and  hides  falsehood,  and  so  lets  us  live 

Somehow.     Suppose  a  rider  furls  a  cloak 

About  a  horse's  head ;  unfrightened,  so, 

Between  the  menace  of  a  flame,  between 

Solicitation  of  the  pasturage, 

Untempted  equally,  he  goes  his  gait 

To  journey's  end  ;  then  pluck  the  pharos  off  ! 

Show  what  delusions  steadied  him  i'  the  straight 

O'  the  path,  made  grass  seem  fire  and  Are  seem  grass, 

All  through  a  little  bandage  o'er  the  eyes ! 

For  certainly  with  eyes  unbandaged  now 

Alkestis  looked  upon  the  action  here, 

Self-immolation  for  Admetos'  sake ; 

Saw,  with  a  new  sense,  all  her  death  would  do, 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  43 

And  which  of  her  survivors  had  the  right, 
And  which  the  less  right,  to  survive  tliereby. 
For,  you  shall  note,  she  uttered  no  one  word 
Of  love  more  to  her  husband,  though  he  wept 
Plenteously,  waxed  importunate  in  prayer — 
Folly's  old  fashion  when  its  seed  bears  fruit. 
I  think  she  judged  that  she  had  bought  the  ware 
O'  the  seller  at  its  value,  —  nor  praised  him, 
Nor  blamed  herself,  but,  with  indifferent  eye. 
Saw  him  purse  money  up,  prepare  to  leave 
The  buyer  with  a  solitary  bale  — 
True  purple  —  but  in  place  of  all  that  coin, 
Had  made  a  hundred  others  happy  too. 
If  so  willed  fate  or  fortune !     What  remained 
To  give  away,  should  rather  go  to  these 
Than  one  with  coin  to  clink  and  contemplate. 
Admetos  had  his  share  and  might  depart. 
The  rest  was  for  her  children  and  herself. 
(Charope  makes  a  face :  but  wait  a  while  !) 
She  saw  things  plain  as  gods  do  :  by  one  stroke 
O'  the  sword  that  rends  the  life-long  veil  away. 


44  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

(Also  Euripides  saw  plain  enough : 

But  you  and  I,  Charope ,  —  you  and  I 

Will  trust  his  sight  until  our  own  grow  clear). 

"  Sun,  and  thou  light  of  day,  and  heavenly  dance 

O'  the  fleet  cloud-figure ! "  (so  her  passion  paused, 

While  the  awe-stricken  husband  made  his  moan. 

Muttered  now  this  now  that  inaptitude  : 

"  Sun  that  sees  thee  and  me,  a  suffering  pair. 

Who  did   the  gods   no  wrong  whence   thou    should'st 

die ! ") 
Then,  as  if,  caught  up,  carried  in  their  course, 
Fleeting  and  free  as  cloud  and  sunbeam  are. 
She  missed  no  happiness  that  lay  beneath  : 
"  O  thou  wide  earth,  from  these  my  palace  roofs, 
To  distant  nuptial  chambers  once  my  own 
In  that  lolkos  of  my  ancestry  !  "  — 
There  the  flight  failed  her.     "  Raise  thee,  wretched  one  « 
Give  us  not  up  !     Pray  pity  from  the  gods  I " 

Vainly  Admetos :  for  "  I  see  it  —  see 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  45 

The  two-oared  boat !     The  ferryer  of  the  dead, 
Charon,  hand  hard  upon  the  boatman's-pole, 
Calls  me  —  even  now  calls  — '  Why  delayest  thou  ? 
Quick !     Thou  obstructest  all  made  ready  here 
For  prompt  departure  :  quick,  then  I '  " 

"  Woe  is  me  ! 
A  bitter  voyage  this  to  undergo. 
Even  i'  the  telling !     Adverse  Powers  above, 
How  do  ye  plague  us !  " 

Then  a  shiver  ran  : 
"  He  has  me  —  seest  not  ?  —  hales  me,  —  who  is  it  ?  — 
To  the  hall  o'  the  Dead  —  ah,  who  but  Hades'  self. 
He,  with  the  wings  there,  glares  at  me,  one  gaze 
All  that  blue  brilliance,  under  the  eyebrow ! 
What  wilt  thou  do  ?     Unhand  me !     Such  a  way 
I  have  to  traverse,  all  unhappy  one  1 " 

"  Way  —  piteous  to  thy  friends,  but,  most  of  all, 

Me  and  thy  children  :  ours  assuredly 

A  common  partnership  in  grief  like  this  I  " 


(S&  BALA  USTION  'S  AD  VENTURE. 

Whereat  they  closed  about  her ;  but  "  Let  be  1 

Leave,  let  me  lie  now !     Strength  forsakes  my  feet 

Hades  is  here,  and  shadowy  on  my  eyes 

Comes  the  night  creeping.     Children  —  children,  now 

Indeed,  a  mother  is  no  more  for  you  ! 

Farewell,  O  children,  long  enjoy  the  light!  " 

"  Ah,  me  !  the  melancholy  word  I  hear, 

Oppressive  beyond  every  kind  of  death ! 

No,  by  the  Deities,  take  heart,  nor  dare 

To  give  me  up  —  no,  by  our  children  too 

Made  orphans  of!     But  rise,  be  resolute  ! 

Since,  thou  departed,  I  no  more  remain  ! 

For  in  thee  are  we  bound  up,  to  exist 

Or  cease  to  be  —  so  we  adore  thy  love  !  " 

—  Which  brought  out  truth  to  judgment.     At  this  word 

And  protestation,  all  the  truth  in  her 

Claimed  to  assert  itself:  she  waved  away 

The  blue-eyed,  black-wing'd  phantom,  held  in  check 

The  advancing  pageantry  of  Hades  there, 

And,  with  no  change  in  her  own  countenance, 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  47 

She  fixed  her  eyes  on  the  protesting  man, 

And  let  her  lips  unlock  their  sentence,  —  so ! 

"  Admetos,  —  how  things  go  with  me  thou  seest,  — • 

I  wish  to  tell  thee,  ere  I  die,  what  things 

I  will  should  follow.     I  —  to  honor  thee. 

Secure  for  theef  by  my  own  soul's  exchange. 

Continued  looking  on  the  daylight  here  — 

Die  for  thee  —  yet,  if  so  I  pleased,  might  live. 

Nay,  wed  what  man  of  Thessaly  I  would, 

And  dwell  i'  the  dome  with  pomp  and  queenliness. 

I  would  not,  —  would  not  live  bereft  of  thee, 

With  children  orphaned,  neither  shrank  at  all. 

Though  having  gifts  of  youth  wherein  I  joyed. 

Yet,  who  begot  thee  and  who  gave  thee  birth. 

Both  of  these  gave  thee  up ;  for  all,  a  term 

Of  life  was  reached  when  death  became  them  well. 

Ay,  well  —  to  save  their  child  and  glorious  die : 

Since  thou  wast  all  they  had,  nor  hope  remained 

Of  having  other  children  in  thy  place. 

So,  I  and  thou  had  lived  out  our  full  time. 

Nor  thou,  left  lonely  of  thy  wife,  wouldst  groan 


48  BALA  USTION  'S  AD  VENTURE. 

With  children  reared  in  orphanage :  but  thus 

Some  god  disposed  things,  willed  they  so  should  be. 

Be  they  so  !  Now  do  thou  remember  this, 

Do  me  in  turn  a  favor,  —  favor,  since 

Certainly  I  shall  never  claim  my  due. 

For  nothing  is  more  precious  than  a  life :  * 

But  a  fit  favor,  as  thyself  wilt  say. 

Loving  our  children  here  no  less  than  I, 

If  head  and  heart  be  sound  in  thee  at  least. 

Uphold  them,  make  them  masters  of  my  house, 

Nor  wed  and  give  a  step-dame  to  the  pair, 

Who,  being  a  worse  wife  than  I,  thro'  spite 

Will  raise  her  hand  against  both  thine  and  mine. 

Never  do  this  at  least,  I  pray  to  thee  ! 

For  hostile  the  new-comer,  the  step-dame, 

To  the  old  brood  —  a  very  viper  she 

For  gentleness  !  Here  stand  they,  boy  and  girl  j 

The  boy  has  got  a  father,  a  defence 

Tower-like  he  speaks  to  and  has  answer  from : 

But  thou,  my  girl,  how  will  thy  virginhood 

Conclude  itself  in  marriage  fittingly  ? 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  49 

Upon  what  sort  of  sire-found  yoke-fellow 
Art  thou  to  chance?  with  all  to  apprehend— 
Lest,  casting  on  thee  some  unkind  report, 
She  blast  thy  nuptials  in  the  bloom  of  youth. 
For  neither  shall  thy  mother  watch  thee  wed, 
Nor  hearten  thee  in  childbirth,  standing  by 
Just  when  a  mother's  presence  helps  thee  most ! 
No,  for  I  have  to  die  :  and  this  my  ill 
Comes  to  me,  nor  to-morrow,  no,  nor  yet 
The  third  day  of  the  month,  but  now,  even  now, 
I  shall  be  reckoned  among  those  no  more. 
Farewell,  be  happy !  And  to  thee,  indeed. 
Husband,  the  boast  remains  permissible 
Thou  hadst  a  wife  was  worthy !  and  to  you, 
Children,  as  good  a  mother  gave  you  birth." 

"  Have  courage  ! "  interposed  the  friends.     "  For  him 
I  have  no  scruple  to  declare,  all  this 
Will  he  perform,  except  he  fail  of  sense." 

**  All  this  shall  be  —  shall  be  !  "  Admetos  sobbed  : 
3 


50  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

"  Fear  not !  And,  since  I  had  thee  living,  dead 

Alone  wilt  thou  be  called  my  wife :  no  fear 

That  some  Thessalian  ever  styles  herself 

Bride,  hails  this  man  for  husband  in  thy  place  1 

No  woman,  be  she  of  such  lofty  line  . 

Or  such  surpassing  beauty  otherwise  I 

Enough  of  children :  gain  from  th'ese  I  have, 

Such  only  may  the  gods  grant !  since  in  thee 

Absolute  is  our  loss,  where  all  was  gain. 

And  I  shall  bear  for  thee  no  year-long  grief, 

But  grief  that  lasts  while  my  own  days  last,  love  ! 

Love !  For  my  hate  is  she  who  bore  me,  now ; 

And  him  I  hate,  my  father :  loving-ones 

Truly,  in  word  not  deed  !    But  thou  didst  pay 

All  dearest  to  thee  down,  and  buy  my  life, 

Saving  me  so  !    Is  there  not  cause  enough 

That  I  who  part  with  such  companionship 

In  thee,  should  make  my  moan  ?  I  moan,  and  more : 

For  I  will  end  the  feastings  —  social  flow 

O'  the  wine  friends  flock  for,  garlands,  and  the  Muse 

That  graced  my  dwelling.     Never  now  for  me 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  51 

To  touch  the  lyre,  to  lift  my  soul  in  song 

At  summons  of  the  Lybian  flute ;  since  thou 

From  out  my  life  hast  emptied  all  the  joy ! 

And  this  thy  body,  in  thy  likeness  wrought 

By-some  wise  hand  of  the  artificers, 

Shall  lie  disposed  within  my  marriage-bed: 

This  I  will  fall  on,  this  enfold  about, 

Call  by  thy  name,  —  my  dear  wife  in  my  arms 

Even  though  I  have  not,  I  shall  seem  to  have  — 

A  cold  delight,  indeed,  but  all  the  same 

So  should  I  lighten  of  its  weight  my  soul ! 

And,  wandering  my  way  in  dreams  perchance, 

Thyself  wilt  bless  me  :  for,  come  when  they  will. 

Even  by  night  our  loves  are  sweet  to  see. 

But  were  the  tongue  and  tune  of  Orpheus  mine, 

So  that  to  Kore  crying,  or  her  lord, 

Tn  hymns,  from  Hades  I  might  rescue  thee, 

Down  would  I  go,  and  neither  Plouton's  dog 

Nor  Charon,  he  whose  oar  sends  souls  across, 

Should  stay  me  till  again  I  made  thee  stand 

Living,  within  the  light !     But,  failing  this, 


52  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

There,  where  thou  art,  await  me  when  I  die, 

Make  ready  our  abode,  my  house-mate  still ! 

For  in  the  self-same  cedar,  me  with  thee, 

Will  I  provide  that  these  our  friends  shall  place, 

My  side  lay  close  by  thy  side  !     Never,  corpse 

Although  I  be,  would  I  division  bear 

From  thee,  my  faithful  one  of  all  the  world  !  " 

So  he  stood  sobbing :  nowise  insincere, 

But  somehow  child-like,  like  his  children,  like 

Childishness  the  world  over.     What  was  new 

In  this  announcement  that  his  wife  must  die  ? 

What  particle  of  pain  beyond  the  pact 

He  made,  with  eyes  wide  open,  long  ago,  — 

Made,  and  was,  if  not  glad,  content  to  make  ? 

Now  that  the  sorrow,  he  had  called  for,  came, 

He  sorrowed  to  the  height  :  none  heard  him  say, 

However,  what  would  seem  so  pertinent, 

"  To  keep  this  pact,  I  find  surpass  my  powei  • 

Rescind  it,  Moirai !     Give  me  back  her  life, 

And  take  the  life  I  kept  by  base  exchange  ! 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  53 

Or,  failing  that,  here  stands  your  laughing-stock 

Fooled  by  you,  worthy  just  the  fate  o'  the  fool 

Who  makes  a  pother  to  escape  the  best 

And  gain  the  worst  you  wiser  Powers  allot !  " 

No,  not  one  word  of  this  :  nor  did  his  wife, 

Despite  the  sobbing,  and  the  silence  soon 

To  follow,  judge  so  much  was  in  his  thought,  — 

Fancy  that,  should  Moirai  acquiesce, 

He  would  relinquish  life,  nor  let  her  die. 

The  man  was  like  some  merchant  who,  in  storm, 

Throws  the  freight  over  to  redeem  the  ship  : 

No  question,  saving  both  were  better  still. 

As  it  was,  —  why,  he  sorrowed,  which  sufficed. 

So,  all  she  seemed  to  notice  in  his  speech 

Was  what  concerned  her  children.     Children,  too, 

Bear  the  grief  and  accept  the  sacrifice. 

Rightly  rules  Nature  :  does  the  blossomed  bough 

0'  the  grape-vine,  or  the  dry  grape's  self,  bleed  wine  ? 

So,  bending  to  her  children  all  her  love, 
She  fastened  on  their  father's  only  word 


5^4  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

To  purpose  now,  and  followed  it  with  this : 

"  O  children  !  now  yourselves  have  heard  these  things,  ■ 

Your  father  saying  he  will  never  wed 

Another  woman  to  be  over  you, 

Nor  yet  dishonor  me  !  " 

"  And  now  at  least 
I  say  it,  and  I  will  accomplish  too  !  " 

"  Then,  for  such  promise  of  accomplishment. 
Take  from  my  hand  these  children  1 " 

"Thus  I  take  — 
Dear  gift  from  the  dear  hand  !  " 

"  Do  thou  become 
Mother,  now,  to  these  children  in  my  place  ! " 

*  Great  the  necessity  I  should  be  so, 
At  least,  to  these  bereaved  of  thee  I  " 

"ChUd  — chUdl 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  55 

Just  when  I  needed  most  to  live,  below 
Am  I  departing  from  you  both  !  " 

"  Ah  me  1 
And  what  shall  I  do,  then,  left  lonely  thus  ? " 

"  Time  will  appease  thee :  who  is  dead  is  nought" 

"  Take  me  with  thee  —  take,  by  the  gods  below  I  " 

"  We  are  sufficient,  we  who  die  for  thee." 

"  O  Powers  1  ye  widow  me  of  what  a  wife  ! " 

"  And  truly  the  dimmed  eye  draws  earthward  now  ! " 

"  Wife,  if  thou  leav'st  me,  I  am  lost  indeed  1 " 

"  She  once  was — now  is  nothing,  thou  may'st  say." 

"  Raise  thy  face,  nor  forsake  thy  children  thus  !  " 


56  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

"  Ah,  willingly  indeed  I  leave  them  not  1 
But  —  fare  ye  well,  my  children  ! " 

"  Look  on  them  — 
Look ! » 

"I  am  nothingness." 

"  What  dost  thou  !     Leav'st " 
"  Farewell ! " 

And  in  the  breath  she  passed  away. 
"  Undone  —  me  miserable  !  "  moaned  the  king, 
While  friends  released  the  long-suspended  sigh. 
"  Gone  is  she :  no  wife  for  Admetos  more  !  " 

Such  was  the  signal :  how  the  woe  broke  forth, 
Why  tell  ?  —  or  how  the  children's  tears  ran  fast, 
Bidding  their  father  note  the  eyelids'  stare, 
Hands'  droop,  each  dreadful  circumstance  of  death, 

"  Ay,  she  hears  not,  she  sees  not :  I  and  you, 


BALAUSTJON'S  ADVENTURE.  57 

'Tis  plain,  are  stricken  hard,  and  have  to  bear  !  ** 

Was  all  Admetos  answered  ;  for,  I  judge, 

He  only  now  began  to  taste  the  truth  : 

The  thing  done  lay  revealed,  which  undone  thing. 

Rehearsed  for  fact  by  fancy,  at  the  best. 

Never  can  equal.     He  had  used  himself 

This  long  while  (as  he  muttered  presently) 

To  practise  with  the  terms,  the  blow  involved 

By  the  bargain,  sharp  to  bear,  but  bearable 

Because  of  plain  advantage  at  the  end. 

Now  that,  in  fact  not  fancy,  the  blow  fell  — 

Needs  must  he  busy  him  with  the  surprise. 

"  Alkestis  —  not  to  see  her  nor  be  seen. 

Hear  nor  be  heard  of  by  her,  any  more. 

To-day,  to-morrow,  to  the  end  of  time,  — 

Did  I  mean  this  should  buy  my  life  ? "  thought  he. 

So,  friends  came  round  him,  took  him  by  the  hand, 
Bade  him  remember  our  mortality. 
Its  due,  its  doom :  how  neither  was  he  first, 
Nor  would  be  last,  to  thus  deplore  the  loved. 


$8  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

"  I  understand,"  slow  the. words  came  at  last. 

"  Nor  of  a  sudden  did  the  evil  here 

Fly  on  me  :  I  have  known  it  long  ago, 

Ay,  and  essayed  myself  in  misery ; 

Nothing  is  new.     You  have  to  stay,  you  friends. 

Because  the  next  need  is  to  carry  forth 

The  corpse  here  :  you  must  stay  and  do  your  part, 

Chant  proper  paean  to  the  god  below ; 

Drink-sacrifice  he  likes  not.     I  decree 

That  all  Thessalians  over  whom  I  rule 

Hold  grief  in  common  with  me ;  let  them  shear 

Their  locks,  and  be  the  peplos  black  they  show ! 

And  you  to  the  chariot  yoke  your  steeds, 

Or  manage  steeds  one-frontleted,  —  I  charge, 

Clip  from  each  neck  with  steel  the  mane  away  ! 

And  through  my  city,  nor  of  flute  nor  lyre 

Be  there  a  sound  till  twelve  full  moons  succeed. 

For  I  shall  never  bury  any  corpse 

Dearer  than  this  to  me,  nor  better  friend  : 

One  worthy  of  all  honor  from  me,  since 

Me  she  has  died  for,  she  and  she  alone." 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  59 

With  that,  he  sought  the  inmost  of  the  house, 

He  and  his  dead,  to  get  grave's  garniture. 

While  the  friends  sang  the  paean  that  should  peal. 

"  Daughter  of  Pelias,  with  farewell  from  me, 

I'  the  house  of  Hades  have  thy  unsunned  home ! 

Let  Hades  know,  the  dark-haired  deity,  — 

And  he  who  sits  to  row  and  steer  alike, 

Old  corpse-conductor,  let  him  know  he  bears 

Over  the  Acherontian  lake  this  time, 

I'  the  two-oared  boat,  the  best,  —  oh,  best  by  far 

Of  womankind  !     For  thee,  Alkestis  Queen, 

Many  a  time  those  haunters  of  the  Muse 

Shall  sing  thee  to  the  seven-stringed  mountain-shell, 

And  glorify  in  hymns  that  need  no  harp. 

At  Sparta  when  the  cycle  comes  about. 

And  that  Kameian  month  wherein  the  moon 

Rises  and  never  sets  the  whole  night  through  : 

So  too  at  splendid  and  magnificent 

Athenai.     Such  the  spread  of  thy  renown, 

And  such  the  lay  that,  dying,  thou  hast  left 

Singer  and  sayer.     Oh  that  I  availed 


6o  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Of  my  own  might  to  send  thee  once  again 
From  Hades'  hall,  Kokutos'  stream,  by  help 
C  the  oar  that  dips  the  river,  back  to-day !  " 

So,  the  song  sank  to  prattle  in  her  praise : 

"  Light,  from  above  thee,  lady,  fall  the  earth, 

Thou  only  one  of  womankind  to  die, 

Wife  for  her  husband !     If  Admetos  take 

Any  thing  to  him  like  a  second  spouse,  — 

Hate  from  his  offspring  and  from  us  shall  be 

His  portion,  let  the  king  assure  himself! 

No  mind  his  mother  had  to  hide  in  earth 

Her  body  for  her  son's  sake,  nor  his  sire 

Had  heart  to  save  whom  he  begot,  —  not  they, 

The  white-haired  wretches  !  only  thou  it  was, 

r  the  bloom  of  youth,  didst  save  him  and  so  die  1 

Might  it  be  mine  to  chance  on  such  a  mate 

And  partner !     For  there's  penury  in  life 

Of  such  allowance :  were  she  mine  at  least. 

So  wonderful  a  wife,  assuredly 

She  would  companion  me  throughout  my  days 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  6l 

And  nearer  once  bring  sorrow  1 " 

A  great  voice  — 
"  My  hosts  here  ! " 

Oh,  the  thrill  that  ran  through  us ! 
Never  was  aught  so  good  and  opportune 
As  that  great  interrupting  voice !     For  see  ! 
Here  maundered  this  dispirited  old  age 
Before  the  palace ;  whence  a  something  crept 
Which  told  us  well  enough  without  a  word 
What  was  a-doing  inside,  —  ever}'  touch 
O'  the  garland  on  those  temples,  tenderest 
Disposure  of  each  arm  along  its  side, 
Came  putting  out  what  warmth  i'  the  world  was  left 
Then,  as  it  happens  at  a  sacrifice 
When,  drop  by  drop,  some  lustral  bath  is  brimmed  : 
Into  the  thin  and  clear  and  cold,  at  once 
They  slaughter  a  whole  wine-skin ;  Bacchos'  blood 
Sets  the  white  water  all  a-flame  :  even  so. 
Sudden  into  the  midst  of  sorrow,  leapt 


62  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Along  with  the  gay  cheer  of  that  great  voice, 
Hope,  joy,  salvation  :  Herakles  was  here ! 
Himself  o'  the  threshold,  sent  his  voice  on  first 
To  herald  all  that  human  and  divine 
I'  the  weary  happy  face  of  him,  —  half  god. 
Half  man,  which  made  the  god-part  god  the  more. 

"  Hosts  mine,"  he  broke  upon  the  sorrow  with, 
"  Inhabitants  of  this  Pheraian  soil, 
Chance  I  upbn  Admetos  inside  here  ? " 

The  irresistible  sound  wholesome  heart 

O'  the  hero,  —  more  than  all  the  mightiness 

At  labor  in  the  limbs  that,  for  man's  sake. 

Labored  and  meant  to  labor  their  life  long,  — 

This  drove  back,  dried  up  sorrow  at  its  source. 

How  could  it  brave  the  happy  weary  laugh 

Of  who  had  bantered  sorrow,  "  Sorrow  here  ? 

What  have  you  done  to  keep  your  friend  from  harm  ? 

Could  no  one  give  the  life  I  see  he  keeps  ? 

Or,  say  there's  sorrow  here  past  friendly  help. 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  63 

\\Tiy  waste  a  word  or  let  a  tear  escape 

While  other  sorrows  wait  you  in  the  world,  • 

And  want  the  life  of  you,  though  helpless  here  ?  " 

Clearly  there  was  no  telling  such  an  one 

How,  when  their  monarch  tried  who  loved  him  more 

Than  he  loved  them,  and  found  they  loved,  as  he, 

Each  man,  himself,  and  held,  no  otherwise. 

That,  of  all  evils  in  the  world,  the  worst 

Was  —  being  forced  to  die,  whate'er  death  gain  : 

How  all  this  selfishness  in  him  and  them 

Caused  certain  sorrow  which  they  sang  about,  — 

I  think  that  Herakles,  who  held  his  life 

Out  on  his  hand,  for  any  man  to  take  — 

I  think  his  laugh  had  marred  their  threnody. 

"  He  is  i'  the  house,"  they  answered.     After  all. 

They  might  have  told  the  story,  talked  their  best 

About  the  inevitable  sorrow  here. 

Nor  changed  nor  checked  the  kindly  nature,  —  no ! 

So  long  as  men  were  merely  weak,  not  bad. 

He  loved  men  :  were  they  gods  he  used  to  help? 


64  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

"  Yea,  Pheres'  son  is  in-doors,  Herakles : 
But  say,  what  sends  thee  to  Thessalian  soil, 
Brought  by  what  business  to  this  Pherai  town  ?  " 

"  A  certain  labor  that  I  have  to  do 
Eurustheus  the  Tirunthian,"  laughed  the  god. 

"  And  whither  wendest  —  on  what  wandering 

Bound  now?  "  (they  had  an  instinct, guessed  what  meant 

Wanderings,  labors,  in  the  god's  light  mouth.) 

**  After  the  Thracian  Diomedes'  car 
With  the  four  horses." 

"  Ah !  but  canst  thou  that? 

Art  inexperienced  in  thy  host  to  be  ?  " 

"  All-inexperienced  :  I  have  never  gone 
As  yet  to  the  land  o'  the  Bistones." 

"  Then  look 
By  no  means  to  be  master  of  the  steeds 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  65 

Without  a  battle  ! " 

"  Battle  there  may  be : 
I  must  refuse  no  labor,  all  the  same." 

"  Certainly,  either  having  slain  a  foe 
Wilt  thou  return  to  us,  or,  slain  thyself. 
Stay  there ! " 

"  And,  even  if  the  game  be  so, 
The  risk  in  it  were  not  the  first  I  run." 

"  But,  say  thou  overpower  the  lord  o'  the  place. 
What  more  advantage  dost  expect  thereby?" 

"  I  shall  drive  off  his  horses  to  the  king." 

"  No  easy  handling  them  to  bit  the  jaw  ! " 

"  Easy  enough  ;  except,  at  least,  they  breathe 
Fire  from  their  nostrils  !  " 

"  But  they  miuce  up  mc 
With  those  quick  jaws  I " 


66  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

"  You  talk  of  provendei 
For  mountain-beasts,  and  not  mere  horses'  food  ! " 

"  Thou  may'st  behold  their  mangers  caked  with  gore 

"  And  of  what  sire  does  he  who  bred  them  boast 
Himself  the  son  ? " 

"  Of  Ares,  king  o'  the  targe  — 
Thracian,  of  gold  throughout." 

Another  laugh. 
"  Why,  just  the  labor,  just  the  lot  for  me, 
Dost  thou  describe  in  what  I  recognize  1 
Since  hard  and  harder,  high  and  higher  yet, 
Truly  this  lot  of  mine  is  like  to  go 
If  I  must  needs  join  battle  with  the  brood 
Of  Ares  :  ay,  I  fought  Lukaon  first. 
And  again,  Kuknos :  now  engage  in  strife 
This  third  time,  with  such  horses  and  such  lord. 
But  there  is  nobody  shall  ever  see 
/\lkmene's  son  shrink,  foemen's  hand  before !  " 


!" 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  67 

—  "  Or  ever  hear  him  say  "  (the  chorus  thought) 

*'  That  death  is  terrible ;  and  help  us  so 

To  chime  in  — '  terrible  beyond  a  doubt, 

And,  if  to  thee,  why,  to  ourselves  much  more : 

Know  what  has  happened,  then,  and  sympathize ! '  " 

Therefore  they  gladly  stopped  the  dialogue. 

Shifted  the  burthen  to  new  shoulder  straight. 

As,  "  Look  where  comes  the  lord  o'  the  land,  himself, 

Admetos,  from  the  palace !  "  they  out-broke 

In  some  surprise,  as  well  as  much  relief. 

What  had  induced  the  king  to  waive  his  right 

And  luxury  of  woe  in  loneliness  ? 

Out  he  came  quietly ;  the  hair  was  dipt, 

And  the  garb  sable  ;  else  no  outward  sign 

Of  sorrow  as  he  came  and  faced  his  friend. 

Was  truth  fast  terrifying  tears  away  ? 

"  Hail,  child  of  Zeus,  and  sprung  from  Perseus  too  ! " 

The  salutation  ran  without  a  fault 

**  And  thou,  Admetos,  King  of  Thessaly  I " 


68  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

"  Would,  as  thou  wishest  me,  the  grace  might  fall ! 
But  my  good-wisher,  that  thou  art,  I  know." 

"What's  here?   these  shorn  locks,  this    sad  show  of 
thee?" 

"  I  must  inter  a  certain  corpse  to-day." 

"  Now,  from  thy  children  God  avert  mischance  ! " 

"  They  live,  my  children  ;  all  are  in  the  house  1 " 

"  Thy  father  —  if  'tis  he  departs  indeed, 
His  age  was  ripe  at  least." 

"  My  father  lives, 
And  she  who  bore  me  lives  too,  Herakles." 

"  It  cannot  be  thy  wife  Alkestis  gone  ?  " 

"  Two-fold  the  tale  is,  I  can  tell  of  her." 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  69 

"  Dead  dost  thou  speak  of  her,  or  living  yet  ? " 

"  She  is  —  and  is  not :  hence  the  pain  to  me ! " 

"  I  learn  no  whit  the  more,  so  dark  thy  speech  !  " 

"  Know'st  thou  not  on  what  fate  she  needs  must  fall  ? " 

"  I  know  she  is  resigned  to  die  for  thee." 

"  How  lives  she  still,  then,  if  submitting  so  ? " 

"  Eh,  weep  her  not  beforehand  !  wait  till  then !  ** 

"  Who  is  to  die  is  dead ;  doing  is  done." 

"  To  be  and  not  to  be  are  thought  diverse.** 

"  Thou  judgest  this  —  I,  that  way,  Herakles !  ** 

"  Well,  but  declare  what  causes  thy  complaint ! 


70  BALAUSTION'S    ADVENTURE. 

Wlio  is  the  man  has  died  from  out  thy  friends  ?  '* 

"  No  man  :  I  had  a  woman  in  my  mind." 

"  Alien,  or  some  one  born  akin  to  thee  ? " 

"  Alien  :  but  still  related  to  my  house." 

"  How  did  it  happen  then  that  here  she  died  ?  " 

"  Her  father  dying  left  his  orphan  here." 

"  Alas,  Admetos  —  would  we  found  thee  gay, 
Not  grieving ! " 

"  What  as  if  about  to  do 
Subjoinest  thou  that  comment  ? " 

"  I  shall  seek 
Another  hearth,  proceed  to  other  hosts." 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  71 

"  Never,  O  king,  shall  that  be !  No  such  ill 
Betide  me !  '* 

"  Nay,  to  mourners,  should  there  come 
A  guest,  he  proves  importunate  !  " 

"  The  dead  — 
Dead  are  they :  but  go  thou  within  my  house !  " 

"  'T  is  base  carousing  beside  friends  who  mourn." 

"  The  guest-rooms,  whither  we  shall  lead  thee,  lie 
Apart  from  ours." 

"  Nay,  let  me  go  my  way  1 
Ten  thousandfold  the  favor  I  shall  thank ! " 

"  It  may  not  be  thou  goest  to  the  hearth 

Of  any  man  but  me !  "  so  made  an  end 

Admetos,  softly  and  decisively, 

Of  the  altercation.     Herakles  forbore : 

And  the  king  bade  a  servant  lead  the  way, 

Open  the  guest-rooms  ranged  remote  from  view 


72  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

O'  the  main  hall,  tell  the  functionaries,  too, 
They  had  to  furnish  forth  a  plenteous  feast : 
And  then  shut  close  the  doors  o'  the  hall,  midway, 
"  Because  it  is  not  proper  friends  who  feast 
Should  hear  a  groaning  or  be  grieved,"  quoth  he. 

Whereat  the  hero,  who  was  truth  itself, 

Let  out  the  smile  again,  repressed  a  while 

Like  fountain  brilliance  one  forbids  to  play. 

He  did  too  many  grandnesses,  to  note 

Much  in  the  meaner  things  about  his  path  : 

And  stepping  there,  with  face  towards  the  sun, 

Stopped  seldom  to  pluck  weeds  or  ask  their  names. 

Therefore  he  took  Admetos  at  the  word  : 

This  trouble  must  not  hinder  any  more 

A  true  heart  from  good  will  and  pleasant  ways. 

And  so,  the  great  arm,  which  had  slain  the  snake, 

Strained  his  friend's  head  a  moment  in  embrace 

On  that  broad  breast  beneath  the  lion's  hide, 

Till  the  king's  cheek  winced  at  the  thick  rough  gold  ; 

And  then  strode  off,  with  who  had  care  of  him. 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  73 

To  the  remote  guest-chamber :  glad  to  give 
Poor  flesh  and  blood  their  respite  and  relief 
In  the  interval  'twixt  fight  and  fight  again  — 
All  for  the  world's  sake.     Our  eyes  followed  him. 
Be  sure,  till  those  mid-doors  shut  us  outside. 
The  king,  too,  watched  great  Herakles  go  off 
All  faith,  love,  and  obedience  to  a  friend. 

And  when  they  questioned  him,  the  simple  ones, 
"  What  dost  thou  ?     Such  calamity  to  face,- 
Lies  full  before  thee  —  and  thou  art  so  bold 
As  play  the  host,  Admetos  ?     Hast  thy  wits  ? " 
He  replied  calmly  to  each  chiding  tongue  : 
*'  But  if  from  house  and  home  I  forced  away 
A  coming  guest,  would'st  thou  have  praised  me  more  ? 
No,  truly !  since  calamity  were  mine. 
Nowise  diminished  ;  while  I  showed  myself 
Unhappy  and  inhospitable  too  : 
So  adding  to  my  ills  this  other  ill. 
That  mine  were  styled  a  stranger-hating  house. 
Myself  have  ever  found  this  man  the  best 
4 


74  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE, 

Of  entertainers  when  I  went  his  way 
To  parched  and  thirsty  Argos." 

"  If  so  be  — 

Why  didst  thou  hide  what  destiny  was  here, 
When  one  came  that  was  kindly,  as  thou  say'st  ?  '* 

"  He  never  would  have  willed  to  cross  my  door, 

Had  he  known  aught  of  my  calamities. 

And  probably  to  some  of  you  I  seem 

Unwise  enough  in  doing  what  I  do  ; 

Such  will  scarce  praise  me :  but  these  halls  of  mine 

Know  not  to  drive  off  and  dishonor  guests." 

And  so,  the  duty  done,  he  turned  once  more 

To  go  and  busy  him  about  his  dead. 

As  for  the  sympathizers  left  to  muse, 

There  was  a  change,  a  new  light  thrown  on  things, 

Contagion  from  the  magnanimity 

0'  the  man  whose  life  lay  on  his  hand  so  light, 

As  up  he  stepped,  pursuing  duty  still, 

"  Higher  and  harder,"  as  he  laughed  and  said. 

Somehow  they  found  no  folly  now  in  the  act 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  75 

They  blamed  erewhile  :  Admetos'  private  grief 

Shrank  to  a  somewhat  pettier  obstacle 

I'  the  way  o'  the  world  :  they  saw  good  days  had  been, 

And  good  days,  peradventure,  still  might  be  ; 

Now  that  they  overlooked  the  present  cloud 

Heavy  upon  the  palace  opposite. 

And  soon  the  thought  took  words  and  music  thus  :  — 

"  Harbor  of  many  a  stranger,  free  to  friend, 
Ever  and  always,  O  thou  house  o'  the  man 
We  mourn  for !     Thee,  Apollon's  very  self. 
The  lyric  Puthian,  deigned  inhabit  once. 
Become  a  shepherd  here  in  thy  domains, 
^nd  pipe,  adown  the  winding  hill-side  paths, 
Pastoral  marriage-poems  to  thy  flocks 
At  feed :  while  with  them  fed  in  fellowship, 
Through  joy  i'  the  music,  spot-skin  lynxes  ;  ay. 
And  lions  too,  the  bloody  company, 
Came,  leaving  Othrus'  dell ;  and  round  thy  lyre, 
Phoibos,  there  danced  the  speckle-coated  fawn,    - 
Pacing  on  lightsome  fetlock  past  the  pines 


76  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Tress-topped,  the  creature's  natural  boundary, 
Into  the  open  everywhere  j  such  heart 
Had  she  within  her,  beating  joyous  beats, 
At  the  sweet  re-assurance  of  thy  song ! 
Therefore  the  lot  o'  the  master  is  to  live 
In  a  home  multitudinous  with  herds, 
Along  by  the  fair-flowing  Boibian  lake. 
Limited,  that  ploughed  land  and  pasture-plain. 
Only  where  stand  the  sun's  steeds,  stabled  west 
I'  the  cloud,  by  that  mid-air  which  makes  the  clime 
Of  those  Molossoi :  and  he  rules  as  well 
O'er  the  Aigaian,  up  to  Pelion's  shore,  — 
Sea-stretch  without  a  port !    Such  lord  have  we : 
A.nd  here  he  opens  house  now,  as  of  old. 
Takes  to  the  heart  of  it  a  guest  again  : 
Though  moist  the  eyelid  of  the  master,  still 
Mourning  his  dear  wife's  body,  dead  but  now ! " 

And  they  admired :  nobility  of  soul 
Was  self-impelled  to  reverence,  they  saw ; 
The  best  men  ever  prove  the  wisest  too ; 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  TJ 

Something  instinctive  guides  them  still  aright 
And  on  each  soul  this  boldness  settled  now. 
That  one,  who  reverenced  the  gods  so  much. 
Would  prosper  yet :  (or  —  I  could  wish  it  ran  — 
Who  venerates  the  gods  i'  the  main,  will  still 
Practise  things  honest  though  obscure  to  judge.) 

They  ended,  for  Admetos  entered  now ; 

Having  disposed  all  duteously  indoors. 

He  came  into  th»  outside  world  again, 

Quiet  as  ever :  but  a  quietude 

Bent  on  pursuing  its  descent  to  truth, 

As  who  must  grope  until  he  gain  the  ground 

O'  the  dungeon  doomed  to  be  his  dwelling  now. 

Already  high  o'erhead  was  piled  the  dusk. 

When  something  pushed  to  stay  his  downward  step, 

Pluck  back  despair  just  reaching  its  repose. 

He  would  have  bidden  the  kind  presence  there 

Observe  that, — since  the  corpse  was  coming  out. 

Cared  for  in  all  things  that  befit  the  case, 

Carried  aloft,  in  decency  and  state. 


;8  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE: 

To  the  last  burial  place  and  burning  pile,  — 
'Twere  proper  friends  addressed,  as  custom  prompts, 
Alkestis  bound  on  her  last  journeying. 

"  Ay,  for  we  see  thy  father,"  they  subjoined, 

"  Advancing  as  the  aged  foot  best  may  ; 

His  servants,  too  :  each  bringing  in  his  hand 

Adornments  for  thy  wife,  all  pomp  that's  due 

To  the  downward-dwelling  people."     And  in  truth, 

By  slow  procession  till  they  filled  the  stage, 

Came  Pheres,  and  his  following,  and  their  gifts. 

You  see,  the  worst  of  the  interruption  was. 

It  plucked  back,  with  an  over-hasty  hand, 

Admetos  from  descending  to  the  truth, 

(I  told  you)  —  put  him  on  the  brink  again. 

Full  i'  the  noise  and  glare  where  late  he  stood : 

With  no  fate  fallen  and  irrecoverable. 

But  all  things  subject  still  to  chance  and  change  : 

And  that  chance,  —  life,  and  that  change,  —  happiness. 

And  with  the  low  strife  came  the  little  mind  : 

He  was  once  more  the  man  might  gain  so  much. 


SALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  79 

Life  too  and  wife  too,  would  his  friends  but  help ! 

All  he  felt  now  was,  that  there  faced  him  one 

Supposed  the  likeliest,  in  emergency, 

To  help :  and  help,  by  mere  self-sacrifice 

So  natural,  it  seemed  as  if  the  sire 

Must  needs  lie  open  still  to  argument. 

Withdraw  the  rash  decision,  not  to  die. 

But  rather  live,  though  death  would  save  his  son :  — 

Argument  like  the  ignominious  grasp 

O'  the  drowner  whom  his  fellow  grasps  as  fierce, 

Each  marvelling  that  the  other  needs  must  hold 

Head  out  of  water,  though  friend  choke  thereby. 

And  first  the  father's  salutation  fell. 
Burthened,  he  came,  in  common  with  his  child, 
Who  lost,  none  would  gainsay,  a  good  chaste  spouse : 
Yet  such  things  must  be  borne,  though  hard  to  bear. 
"  So,  take  this  tribute  of  adornment,  deep 
In  the  earth  let  it  descend  along  with  her ! 
Behooves  we  treat  the  body  with  respect 
—  Of  one  who  died,  at  least,  to  save  thy  life. 


8o  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Kept  me  from  being'childless,  nor  allowed 

That  I,  bereft  of  thee,  should  peak  and  pine 

In  melancholy  age ;  she,  for  the  sex, 

All  of  her  sisters,  put  in  evidence, 

By  daring  such  a  feat,  that  female  life 

Might  prove  more  excellent  than  men  suppose. 

O  thou  Alkestis !  "  out  he  burst  in  fine, 

"  Who,  while  thou  savedst  this  my  son,  didst  raise 

Also  myself  from  sinking,  —  hail  to  thee ! 

Well  be  it  with  thee  even  in  the  house 

Of  Hades  !  I  maintain,  if  mortals  must 

Marry,  this  sort  of  marriage  is  the  sole 

Permitted  those  among  them  who  are  wise  1 " 

So  his  oration  ended.     Like  hates  like : 
Accordingly  Admetos,  —  full  i'  the  face 
Of  Pheres,  his  true  father,  outward  shape 
And  inward  fashion,  body  matching  soul, — 
Sav/  just  himself  when  years  should  do  their  work 
And  re-enforce  the  selfishness  inside 
Until  it  pushed  the  last  disguise  away  : 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  8l 

As  when  the  liquid  metal  cools  i'  the  mould, 

Stands  forth  a  statue :  Bloodless,  hard,  cold  bronze. 

So,  in  old  Pheres,  young  Admetos  showed, 

Pushed  to  completion :  and  a  shudder  ran, 

And  his  repugnance  soon  had  vent  in  speech: 

Glad  to  escape  outside,  nor,  pent  within, 

Find  itself  there  fit  food  for  exercise. 

"Neither  to  this  interment  called  by  me 

Comest  thou,  nor  thy  presence  I  account 

Among  the  covetable  proofs  of  love. 

As  for  thy  tribute  of  adornment,  —  no  ! 

Ne'er  shall  she  don  it,  ne'er  in  debt  to  thee 

Be  buried !    What  is  thine,  that  keep  thou  still ! 

Then  it  behoved  thee  to  commiserate 

When  I  was  perishing:  but  thou,  who  stood'st 

Foot-free  o'  the  snare,  wast  acquiescent  then 

That  I,  the  young,  should  die,  not  thou,  the  old, — 

Wilt  thou  lament  this  corpse  thyself  hast  slain  ? 

Thou  wast  not,  then,  true  father  to  this  flesh  ; 

N"or  she,  who  makes  profession  of  my  birth. 

And  styles  herself  my  mother,  neither  she 


82  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Bore  me :  but,  come  of  slave's  blood,  I  was  cast 
Stealthily  'neath  the  bosom  of  thy  wife ! 
Thou  showedst,  put  to  touch,  the  thing  thou  art, 
Nor  I  esteem  myself  born  child  of  thee ! 
Otherwise,  thine  is  the  pre-eminence 
O'er  all  the  world  in  cowardice  of  soul  : 
Who,  being  the  old  man  thou  art,  arrived 
Where  life  should  end,  didst  neither  will  nor  dare 
Die  for  thy  son,  but  left  the  task  to  her, 
The  alien  woman,  whom  I  well  might  think 
Own,  only  mother  both  and  father  too  ! 
And  yet  a  fair  strife  had  been  thine  to  strive, 
—  Dying  for  thine  own  child ;  and  brief  for  thee 
In  any  case,  the  rest  of  time  to  live  ; 
While  I  had  lived,  and  she,  our  rest  of  time, 
Nor  I  been  left  to  groan  in  solitude- 
Yet  certainly  all  things  which  happy  man 
Ought  to  experience,  thy  experience  grasped. 
Thou  wast  a  ruler  through  the  bloom  of  youth, 
And  I  was  son  to  thee,  recipient  due 
Of  sceptre  and  demesne,  —  no  need  to  fear 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  83 

That  dying  thou  should'st  have  an  orphan  house 

For  strangers  to  despoil.     Nor  yet  wilt  thou 

Allege  that  as  dishonoring,  forsooth, 

Thy  length  of  days,  I  gave  thee  up  to  die,  — 

I,  who  have  held  thee  in  such  reverence ! 

And  in  exchange  for  it,  such  gratitude 

Thou,  father,  —  thou  award'st  me,  mother  mine ! 

Go,  lose  no  time,  then,  in  begetting  sons 

Shall  cherish  thee  in  age,  and,  when  thou  diest, 

Deck  up  and  lay  thee  out,  as  corpses  claim  ! 

For  never  I,  at  least,  with  this  my  hand 

Will  bury  thee  :  it  is  myself  am  dead 

So  far  as  lies  in  thee.     But  if  I  light 

Upon  another  saviour,  and  still  see 

The  sunbeam,  —  his,  the  child  I  call  myself^ 

His,  the  old  age  that  claims  my  cherishing. 

How  vainly  do'  these  aged  pray  for  death, 

Abuse  the  slow  drag  of  senility  ! 

But  should  death  step  up,  nobody  inclines 

To  die,  nor  age  is  now  the  weight  it  was !  " 

You  see  what  all  this  poor  pretentious  talk 


84  BALAUSTION\S  ADVENTURE. 

Tried  at,  —  how  weakness  strove  to  hide  itself 

In  bluster  against  weakness,  —  the  loud  word 

To  hide  the  little  whisper,  not  so  low 

Already  in  that  heart  beneath  those  lips  1 

Ha !  could  it  be,  who  hated  cowardice 

Stood  confessed  craven,  and  who  lauded  so 

Self-immolating  love,  himself  had  pushed 

The  loved  one  to  the  altar  in  his  place  ? 

Friends  interposed,  would  fain  stop  further  play 

O'  the  sharp-edged  tongue :  they  felt  love's  champion 

here 
Had  left  an  undefended  point  or  two. 
The  antagonist  might  profit  by ;  bade  "  Pause ! 
Enough  the  present  sorrow  !     Nor,  O  son. 
Whet  thus  against  thyself  thy  father's  soul !  " 

Ay,  but  old  Pheres  was  the  stouter  stuff! 
Admetos,  at  the  flintiest  of  the  heart. 
Had  so  much  soft  in  him  as  held  a  fire  : 
The  other  was  all  iron,  clashed  from  flint 
lis  fire,  but  shed  no  spark  and  showed  no  bruise. 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  85 

Did  Pheres  crave  instruction  as  to  facts  ? 

He  came,  content,  the  ignoble  word,  for  him. 

Should  lurk  still  in  the  blackness  of  each  breast. 

As  sleeps  the  water-serpent  half-surmised  : 

Not  brought  up  to  the  surface  at  a  bound, 

By  one  touch  of  the  idly-probing  spear, 

Reed-like  against  the  unconquerable  scale. 

He  came  pacific,  rather,  as  strength  should, 

Bringing  the  decent  praise,  the  due  regret, 

And  each  banality  prescribed  of  old. 

Did  he  commence,  "  Why  let  her  die  for  you  ?  " 

And  rouse  the  coiled  and  quiet  ugliness, 

"  What  is  so  good  to  man  as  man's  own  life  ?  " 

No  :  but  the  other  did  :  and,  for  his  pains, 

Out,  full  in  face  of  him,  the  venom  leapt 

"  And  whom  dost  thou  make  bold,  son  —  Li/dian  slave, 
Or  Phrugian  whether,  money  made  thy  ware. 
To  drive  at  with  revilings  ?     Know'st  thou  not 
I,  a  Thessalian,  from  Thessalian  sire 
Spring,  and  am  born  legitimately  free  ? 


86  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Too  arrogant  art  thou ;  and,  youngster-words 

Casting  against  me,  having  had  thy  fling, 

Thou  goest  not  off  as  all  were  ended  so  1 

I  gave  thee  birth  indeed  and  mastership 

I'  the  mansion,  brought  thee  up  to  boot :  there  ends 

My  owing,  nor  extends  to  die  for  thee  ! 

Never  did  I  receive  it  as  a  law 

Hereditary,  no,  nor  Greek  at  all. 

That  sires  in  place  of  sons  were  bound  to  die. 

For,  to  thy  sole  and  single  self  wast  thou 

Born,  with  whatever  fortune,  good  or  bad  ; 

Such  things  as  bear  bestowment,  those  thou  hast ; 

Already  ruling  widely,  broad-lands,  too. 

Doubt  not  but  I  shall  leave  thee  in  due  time : 

For  why  ?     My  father  left  me  them  before. 

Well  then,  where  wrong  I  thee  ?  —  of  what  defraud  ? 

Neither  do  thou  die  for  this  man,  myself, 

Nor  let  him  die  for  thee  !  —  is  all  I  beg. 

Thou  joyest  seeing  daylight :  dost  suppose 

Thy  father  joys  not  too  ?     Undoubtedly, 

Long  I  account  the  time  to  pass  below, 


BALA  USTTON  'S  AD  VENTURE.  8  7 

And  brief  my  span  of  days ;  yet  sweet  the  same : 

Is  it  otherwise  to  thee  who,  impudent, 

Didst  fight  off  this  same  death,  and  Hvest  now 

Through  having  sneaked  past  fate  apportioned  thee, 

And  slain  thy  wife  so  ?    Cryest  cowardice 

On  me,  I  wonder,  thou  —  the  poor  poUroon 

A  very  woman  worsted,  daring  death 

Just  for  the  sake  of  thee,  her  handsome  spark  ? 

Shrewdly  hast  thou  contrived  how  not  to  die 

For  evermore  now  :  'tis  but  still  persuade 

The  wife  for  the  time  being  —  take  thy  place  ! 

What,  and  thy  friends  who  would  not  do  the  like 

These  dost  thou  carp  at,  craven  thus  thyself  ? 

Crouch  and  be  silent,  cravenj     Comprehend 

That,  if  thou  lovest  so  that  life  of  thine, 

Why  everybody  loves  his  own  life  too:*' 

So,  good  words  henceforth !     If  thou  speak  us  ill. 

Many  and  true  an  ill  thing  shalt  thou  hear  !  " 

There  you  saw  leap  the  hydra  at  full  length ! 
Only,  the  old  kept  glorying  the  more, 


88  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

The  more  the  portent  thus  uncoiled  itself, 
Whereas  the  young  man  shuddered  head  to  foot, 
And  shrank  from  kinship  with  the  creature.     Why 
Such  horror,  unless  what  he  hated  most, 
Vaunting  itself  outside,  might  fairly  claim 
Acquaintance  with  the  counterpart  at  home  : 
I  would  the  Chorus  here  had  plucked  up  heart. 
Spoken  out  boldly,  and  explained  the  man, 
If  not  to  men,  to  gods.     That  way,  I  think, 
Sophokles  would  have  led  their  dance  and  song. 
Here  they  said  simply  "  Too  much  evil  spoke 
On  both  sides  !  "     As  the  young  before,  so  now 
They  bade  the  old  man  leave  abusing  thus. 

"  Let  him  speak,  —  I  have  spoken  !  "  said  the  youth  j 
And  so  died  ouWhe  wrangle  by  degrees. 
In  wretched  bickering.     "  If  thou  wince  at  fact. 
Behooved  thee  not  prove  faulty  to  myself !  " 

"  Had  I  died  for  thee  I  had  faulted  more  ! " 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  89 

*'  All's  one,  then,  for  youth's  bloom  and  age  to  die?" 

"  Our  duty  is  to  live  one  life,  not  two  ! " 

"  Go  then,  and  outlive  Zeus,  for  aught  I  care  ! " 

"  What,  curse  thy  jparents  with  no  sort  of  cause  ? " 

"  Curse,  truly !  All  thou  lovest  i's  long  life  1 '' 

"  And  dost  not  thou,  too,  all  for  love  of  life, 
Carry  out  now,  in  place  of  thine,  this  corpse  ? " 

"  Monument,  rather,  of  thy  cowardice. 
Thou  worst  one !  " 

"  Not  for  me  she  died,  I  hope ! 
That  thou  wilt  hardly  say !  " 

"  No,  simply  this  : 
Would  some  day  thou  may'st  come  to  need  myself!  " 

"  Meanwhile,  woo  many  wives  —  the  more  will  die ! " 


90  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

"  And  so  shame  thee  who  never  dared  the  like  1 " 

"  Dear  is  this  light  o'  the  sun-god  —  dear,  I  say  !  ** 

"  Proper  conclusion  for  a  beast  to  draw !  " 

"  One  thing  is  certain :  there's  no  laughing  now. 
As  out  thou  bearest  the  poor  dead  old  man ! " 

"  Die  when  thou  wilt,  thou  wilt  die  infamous  !  " 

"  And  once  dead,  whether  famed  or  infamous, 
1  shall  not  care !  " 

"  Alas  and  yet  again  I 
How  full  is  age  of  impudency !  " 

"True! 
Thou  could'st  not  call  thy  young  wife  impudent : 
She  was  found  foolish  merely." 

"  Get  thee  gone  1 
And  let  me  bury  this  my  dead  1 " 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  9« 

"I  go. 
Thou  buriest  her  whom  thou  didst  murder  first ; 
Whereof  there's  some  account  to  render  yet 
Those  kinsfolk  by  the  marriage-side !     I  think 
Brother  Akastos  may  be  classed,  with  me, 
Among  the  beasts,  not  men,  if  he  omit 
Avenging  upon  thee  his  sister's  blood  1 " 

"  Go  to  perdition,  with  thy  housemate  too, 
Grow  old  all  childlessly,  with  child  alive. 
Just  as  ye  merit !  for  to  me,  at  least. 
Beneath  the  same  roof  ne'er  do  ye  return. 
And  did  I  need  by  heralds'  help  renounce 
The  ancestral  hearth,  I  had  renounced  the  same ! 
But  we  —  since  this  woe,  lying  at  our  feet 
I'  the  path,  is  to  be  borne  —  let  us  proceed. 
And  lay  the  body  on  the  pyre." 

I  think. 
What,  thro'  this  wretched  wrangle,  kept  the  man 
From  seeing  clear  —  beside  the  cause  I  gave  — 
Was  that  the  woe,  himself  described  as  full 


92  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

V  the  path  before  him,  there  did  really  lie  — 

Not  roll  into  the  abyss  of  dead  and  gone. 

How,  with  Alkestis  present,  calmly  crowned, 

Was  she  so  irrecoverable  yet  ? 

The  bird,  escaped,  that's  just  on  bough  above, 

The  flower,  let  flutter  half-way  down  the  brink  ! 

Not  so  detached  seemed  lifelessness  from  life, 

But  —  one  dear  stretch  beyond  all  straining  yet  — 

And  he  might  have  had  her  at  his  heart  once  more. 

But,  in  the  critical  minute,  up  there  comes 

The  father  and  the  fact,  to  trifle  time ! 

"  To  the  pyre  !  "  an  instinct  prompted  :  pallid  face, 

And  passive  arm,  and  pointed  foot,  O  friends ! 

When  these  no  longer  shall  absorb  the  sight, 

Admetos  will  begin  to  see  indeed 

Who  the  true  foe  was,  where  the  blows  should  fall  I 

So,  the  old  selfish  Pheres  went  his  way, 
Case-hardened  as  he  came ;  and  left  the  youth 
(Only  half  selfish  now,  since  sensitive) 
To  go  on  learning  by  a  light  the  more, 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE,  93 

As  friends  moved  off,  renewing  dirge  the  while : 

"  Unhappy  in  thy  daring  !     Noble  dame, 

Best  of  the  good,  farewell !     With  favoring  face 

May  Hermes  the  infernal,  Hades  too. 

Receive  thee  !     And  if  there,  ay,  there,  —  some  touch 

Of  further  dignity  await  the  good. 

Sharing  with  them,  may'st  thou  sit  throned  by  her 

The  Bride  of  Hades,  in  companionship  !  " 

Wherewith,  the  sad  procession  wound  away. 

Made  slowly  for  the  suburb  sepulchre. 

And  lo,  —  while  still  one's  heart,  in  time  and  tune, 

Paced  after  that  symmetric  step  of  Death 

Mute-marching,  to  the  mind's  eye,  at  the  head 

O'  the  mourners  —  one  hand  pointing  out  their  path 

With  the  long  pale  terrific  sword  we  saw, 

The  other  leading,  with  grim  tender  grace, 

Alkestis  quieted  and  consecrate,  — 

Lo,  life  again  knocked  laughing  at  the  door ! 

The  world  goes  on,  goes  ever,  in  and  through, 


94  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

And  out  again  o'  the  cloud.     We  faced  about, 

Fronted  the  palace  where  the  mid-hall-door 

Opened  —  not  half,  nor  half  of  half,  perhaps  — 

Yet  wide  enough  to  let  out  light  and  life, 

And  warmth,  and  bounty,  and  hope,  and  joy,  at  once. 

Festivity  burst  wide,  fruit  rare  and  ripe 

Crushed  in  the  mouth  of  Bacchos,  pulpy-prime. 

All  juice  and  flavor,  save  one  single  seed 

Duly  ejected  from  the  god's  nice  lip. 

Which  lay  o'  the  red  edge,  blackly  visible  — 

To  wit,  a  certain  ancient  servitor : 

On  whom  the  festal  jaws  o'  the  palace  shut. 

So,  there  he  stood,  a  much-bewildered  man. 

Stupid  .''     Nay,  but  sagacious  in  a  sort : 

Learned,  life-long,  i'  the  first  outside  of  things. 

Though  bat  for  blindness  to  what  lies  beneath, 

And  needs  a  nail-scratch  ere  'tis  laid  you  bare. 

This  functionary  was  the  trusted  one 

We  saw  deputed  by  Admetos  late 

To  lead  in  Herakles  and  help  him,  soul 

And  body,  to  such  snatched  repose,  snapped-up 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  95 

Sustainment,  as  might  do  away  the  dust 

O'  the  last  encounter,  knit  each  nerve  anew 

For  that  next  onset  sure  to  come  at  cry 

O'  the  creature  next  assailed,  —  nay,  should  it  prove 

Only  the  creature  that  came  forward  now 

To  play  the  critic  upon  Herakles  ! 

"  Many  the  guests  "  —  so  he  soliloquized 

In  musings  burdensome  to  breast  before, 

When  it  seemed  not  too  prudent,  tongue  should  wag  — 

"  Many,  and  from  all  quarters  of  this  world, 

The  guests  I  now  have  known  frequent  our  house, 

For  whom  I  spread  the  banquet ;  but  than  this, 

Never  a  worse  one  did  I  yet  receive 

At  the  hearth  here  !     One  who  seeing,  first  of  all 

The  master's  sorrow,  entered  gate  the  same, 

And  had  the  hardihood  to  house  himself. 

Did  things  stop  there  ?     But,  modest  by  no  means, 

He  took  what  entertainment  lay  to  hand, 

Knowing  of  our  misfortune,  —  did  we  fail 

In  aught  of  the  fit  service,  urged  us  serve 


96  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Just  as  a  guest  expects  !     And  in  his  hands 

Taking  the  ivied  goblet,  drinks  and  drinks 

The  unmixed  product  of  black  mother-earth, 

Until  the  blaze  o'  the  wine  went  round  about 

And  warmed  him  :  then  he  crowns  with  myrtle  sprigs 

His  head,  and  howls  discordance  —  two-fold  lay 

Was  thereupon  for  us  to  listen  to  — 

This  fellow  singing,  namely,  nor  restrained 

A  jot  by  sympathy  with  sorrows  here  — 

While  we   o'   the   household  mourned   our   mistress 

mourned, 
That  is  to  say,  in  silence  —  never  showed 
The  eyes,  which  we  kept  wetting,  to  the  guest  — 
For  there  Admetos  was  imperative. 
And  so,  here  am  I  helping  make  at  home 
A  guest,  some  fellow  ripe  for  wickedness, 
Robber  or  pirate,  while  she  goes  her  way 
Out  of  her  house  :  and  neither  was  it  mine 
To  follow  in  procession,  nor  stretch  forth 
Hand,  wave  my  lady  dear  a  last  farewell, 
Lamenting  who  to  me  and  all  of  us 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  97 

Domestics  was  a  mother  :  myriad  harms 
She  used  to  ward  away  from  every  one, 
And  mollify  her  husband's  ireful  mood. 
I  ask  then,  do  I  justly  hate  or  no 
This  guest,  this  interloper  on  our  grief? " 

"  Hate  him  and  justly ! "     Here's  the  proper  judge 
Of  what  is  due  to  the  house  from  Herakles ! 
This  man  of  much  experience  saw  the  first 
O'  the  feeble  duckings-down  at  destiny, 
When  King  Admetos  went  his  rounds,  poor  soul, 
A-begging  somebody  to  be  so  brave 
As  die  for  one  afraid  to  die  himself — 
'  Thou,  friend  ?    Thou,  love  ?     Father  or  mother,  then  1 
None  of  you  ?    ^Vhat,  Alkestis  must  Death  catch  ? 
O  best  of  wives,  one  woman  in  the  world  1 
But  nowise  droop :  our  prayers  may  still  assist: 
Let  us  try  sacrifice ;  if  those  avail 
Nothing,  and  gods  avert  their  countenance. 
Why,  deep  and  durable  the  grief  will  be  1 " 
Whereat  the  house,  this  worthy  at  its  head. 


9*  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Re-echoed  "deep  and  durable  our  grief  1" 
This  sage,  who  justly  hated  Herakles, 
Did  he  suggest  once  "  Rather  I  than  she !  " 
Admonish  the  Turannos  —  "Be  a  man  ! 
Bear  thine  own  burden,  never  think  to  thrust 
Thy  fate  upon  another,  and  thy  wife ! 
It  were  a  dubious  gain  could  death  be  doomed 
That  other,  yet  no  passionatest  plea 
Of  thine,  to  die  instead,  have  force  with  fate  ; 
Seeing  thou  lov'st  Alkestis  :  what  were  life 
Unlighted  by  the  loved  one  ?    But  to  live  — 
Not  merely  live  unsolaced  by  some  thought, 
Some  word  so  poor  —  yet  solace  all  the  same-^ 
As  '  Thou  i'  the  sepulchre,  Alkestis,  say  1 
Would  I,  or  would  not  I,  to  save  tliy  life. 
Die,  and  die  on,  and  die  forever  more  ? ' 
No !  but  to  read  red-written  up  and  down 
The  world,  *  This  is  the  sunshine,  this  the  shad^ 
This  is  some  pleasure  of  earth,  sky,  or  sea. 
Due  to  that  other  dead,  that  thou  may'st  live !  * 
Such  were  a  covetable  gain  to  thee  ? 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  99 

Go  die,  fool,  and  be  happy  while  'tis  time  ! " 
One  word  of  counsel  in  this  kind,  methinks, 
Had  fiillen  to  better  purpose  than  Ai,  Ai, 
Pheu,  pheu,  e,  papai,  and  a  pother  of  praise 
O'  the  best,  best,  best  one  !     Nothing  was  to  hate 
In  king  Admetos,  Pheres,  and  the  rest 
O'  the  household  down  to  his  heroic  self! 
This  was  the  one  thing  hateful ;  Herakles 
Had  flung  into  the  presence,  frank  and  free, 
Out  from  the  labor  into  the  repose, 
Ere  out  again  and  over  head  and  ears 
I'  the  heart  of  labor,  all  for  love  of  men  : 
Making  the  most  o'  the  minute,  that  the  soul 
And  body,  strained  to  height  a  minute  since. 
Might  lie  relaxed  in  joy,  this  breathing-space, 
For  man's  sake  more  than  ever ;  till  the  bow, 
Restrung  o'  the  sudden,  at  first  cry  for  help, 
Should  send  some  unimaginable  shaft 
True  to  the  aim  and  shatteringly  through 
The  plate-mail  of  a  monster,  save  man  so. 
He  slew  the  pest  o'  the  marish  yesterday : 


lOO  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Tomorrow  he  would  bit  the  flame-breathed  stud 

That  fed  on  man's-flesh :  and  this  day  between  — 

Because  he  held  it  natural  to  die, 

And  fruitless  to  lament  a  thing  past  cure, 

So,  took  his  fill  of  food,  wine,  song,  and  flowers, 

Till  the  new  labor  claimed  him  soon  enough,  — 

"  Hate  him  and  justly  !  " 

True,  Charopd  mine  ! 
The  man  surmised  not  Herakles  lay  hid 
I'  the  guest ;  or  knowing  it,  was  ignorant 
That  still  his  lady  lived,  for  Herakles  ; 
Or  else  judged  lightness  needs  must  indicate 
This  or  the  other  caitiff  quality  ; 
And  therefore  —  had  been  right  if  not  so  wrong ! 
For  who  expects  the  sort  of  him  will  scratch 
A  nail's  depth,  scrape  the  surface  just  to  see 
What  peradventure  underlies  the  same  ? 

So,  he  stood  petting  up  his  puny  hate, 
Parent-wise,  proud  of  the  ill-favored  babe. 
Not  long !     A  great  hand,  careful  lest  it  crush, 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  lOt 

Startled  him  on  the  shoulder :  up  he  stared  ; 

And  over  him  who  stood  but  Herakles  ? 

There  smiled  the  mighty  presence,  all  one  smile, 

And  no  touch  more  of  the  world-weary  god, 

Through  the  brief  respite  !     Just  a  garland's  grace 

About  the  brow,  a  song  to  satisfy 

Head,  heart,  and  breast,  and  trumpet-lips  at  once, 

A  solemn  draught  of  true  religious  wine, 

And  —  how  should  I  know?  —  half  a  mountain  goat 

Torn  up  and  swallowed  down,  —  the  feast  was  fierce 

But  brief:  all  cares  and  pains  took  wing  and  flew. 

Leaving  the  hero  ready  to  begin 

And  help  mankind,  whatever  woe  came  next, 

Even  though  what  came  next  should  be  nought  more 

Than  the  mean  querulous  mouth  o'  the  man,  remarked 

Pursing  its  grievance  up  till  patience  failed, 

And  the  sage  needs  must  rush  out,  as  we  saw. 

To  sulk  outside  and  pet  his  hate  in  peace. 

By  no  means  would  the  Helper  have  it  so  : 

He  who  was  just  about  to  handle  brutes 

In  Thrace,  and  bit  the  jaws  which  breathed  the  flame,  — 


Ip2  BALAUSTION'S    ADVENTURE. 

Well,  if  a  good  laugh  and  a  jovial  word 
Could  bridle  age  which  blew  bad  humors  forth, 
That  were  a  kind  of  help  too  ! 

"  Thou,  there  1  "  hailed 
This  grand  benevolence  the  ungracious  one  — 
"  Why  look'st  so  solemn  and  so  thought-absorbed  ? 
To  guests,  a  servant  should  not  sour-faced  be, 
But  do  the  honors  with  a  mind  urbane. 
While  thou,  contrariwise,  beholding  here 
Arrive  thy  master's  comrade,  hast  for  him 
A  churlish  visage,  all  one  beetle-brow  — 
Having  regard  to  grief  that's  out-of-door ! 
Come  hither,  and  so  get  to  grow  more  wise  ! 
Things  mortal  —  know'st  the  nature  that  they  have  ? 
No,  I  imagine !  whence  could  knowledge  spring  ? 
Give  ear  to  me,  then  !     For  all  flesh  to  die, 
Is  Nature's  due  ;  nor  is  there  any  one 
Of  mortals  with  assurance  he  shall  last 
The  coming  morrow:  for,  what's  born  of  chance 
Invisibly  proceeds  the  way  it  will, 
Not  to  be  learned,  no  fortune-teller's  prize. 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  103 

This,  th'irefore,  having  heard  and  known  through  me, 

Gladden  thyself !     Drink!     Count  the  day-by-day 

Existence  thine,  and  all  the  other  —  chance  ! 

A)',  and  pay  homage  also  to,  by  far 

The  sweetest  divinities  for  man, 

Kupris !     Benignant  goddess  will  she  prove  ! 

But  as  for  aught  else,  leave  and  let  things  be ! 

And  trust  my  counsel,  if  I  seem  to  speak 

To  purpose  —  as  I  do  apparently. 

Wilt  not  thou,  then,  —  discarding  over  much 

Mournfulness,  do  away  with  this  shut  door. 

Come  drink  along  with  me,  be-garlanded 

This  fashion  ?     Do  so,  —  and,  —  I  well  know  what,  — 

From  this  stern  mood,  this  shrunk-up  state  of  mind, 

The  pit-pat  fall  o'  the  flagon-juice  down  throat, 

Soon  will  dislodge  thee  from  bad  harborage ! 

Men  being  mortal,  should  think  mortal-like  : 

Since  to  your  solemn,  brow-contracting  sort. 

All  of  them,  —  so  I  lay  down  law  at  least,  — 

Life  is  not  truly  life  but  misery." 


I04  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Whereto  the  man  with  softened  surliness  :     . 

"  We  know  as  much  :  but  deal  with  matters,  now, 

Hardly  befitting  mirth  and  revelry." 

"  No  intimate,  this  woman  that  is  dead : 

Mourn  not  too  much !     For,  those  o'  the  house  itself. 

Thy  masters  live,  remember ! " 

"  Live  indeed  ? 
Ah,   thou    know'st   nought    o'    the   woe    within    these 
walls  1 " 

"  I  do  —  unless  thy  master  spoke  me  false 
Somehow ! " 

"  Ay,  ay,  too  much  he  loves  a  guest, 
Too  much,  that  master  mine !  "  so  muttered  he. 

"  Was  it  improper  he  should  treat  me  well, 
Because  an  alien  corpse  was  in  the  way?" 

''  No  alien,  but  most  intimate  indeed  1 " 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  105 

"  Can  it  be,  some  woe  was,  he  told  me  not  ? " 

"  Farewell  and  go  thy  way !    Thy  cares  for  thee  — 
To  us,  our  master's  sorrow  is  a  care." 

"  This  word  begins  no  tale  of  alien  woe ! " 

"  Had  it  been  other  woe  than  intimate, 

I  could  have  seen  thee  feast,  nor  felt  amiss." 

"  ^Vhat !  have  I  suffered  strangely  from  my  host  ? " 

"  Thou  cam'st  not  at  a  fit  reception-time  : 
With  sorrow  here  beforehand ;  and  thou  seest 
Shorn  hair,  black  robes." 

"  But  who  is  it  that's  dead  ? 
Some  child  gone  ?  or  the  aged  sire  perhaps  ?  " 

"  Admetos'  wife,  then !  she  has  perished,  guest ! " 

"  How  sayest?    And  did  ye  house  me  all  the  same?  " 
5* 


Io6  BALAUSTTON'S  ADVENTURE. 

"  Ayi:  for  he  had  thee  in  that  reverence 

He  dared  not  turn  thee  from  his  door  away  ! " 

"  O  hapless,  and  bereft  of  what  a  mate  1 " 
"  All  of  us  now  are  dead,  not  she  alone  I  " 

"  But  I  divined  it !  seeing,  as  I  did, 

His  eye  that  ran  with  tears,  his  close-clipt  hair, 

His  countenance  !     Though  he  persuaded  me, 

Saying  it  was  a  stranger's  funeral 

He  went  with  to  the  grave :  against  my  wish, 

He  forced  on  me  that  I  should  enter  doors, 

Drink  in  the  hall  o'  the  hospitable  man 

Circumstanced  so !     And  do  I  revel  yet 

With  wreath  on  head  ?    But  —  thou  to  hold  thy  peace, 

Nor  tell  me  what  a  woe  oppressed  my  friend ! 

Where  is  he  gone  to  bury  her  ?    Where  am  I 

To  go  and  find  her  ?  " 

"  By  the  road  that  leads 

Straight  to  Larissa,  thou  wilt  see  the  tomb, 

Out  of  the  suburb,  a  carved  sepulchre." 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  1 07 

So  said  he,  and  therewith  dismissed  himself 

Inside  to  his  lamenting :  somewhat  soothed, 

However,  that  he  had  adroitly  dashed 

The  mirth  of  the  great  creature :  oh,  he  marked 

The  movement  of  the  mouth,  how  lip  pressed  lip, 

And  either  eye  forgot  to  shine,  as,  fast. 

He  plucked  the  chaplet  from  his  forehead,  dashed 

The  myrtle-sprays  down,  trod  them  underfoot ! 

And  all  the  joy  and  wonder  of  the  wine 

Withered  away,  like  fire  from  off  a  brand 

The  wind  blows  over  —  beacon  though  it  be, 

Whose  merry  ardor  only  meant  to  make 

Somebody  all  the  better  for  its  blaze. 

And  save  lost  people  in  the  dark :  quenched  now ! 

Not  long  quenched !     As  the  flame,  just  hurried  off 
The  brand's  edge,  suddenly  renews  its  bite. 
Tasting  some  richness  caked  i'  the  core  o'  the  tree, — 
Pine,  with  a  blood  that 's  oil,  —  and  triumphs  up 
Pillar-wise  to  the  sky  and  saves  the  world  : 
So,  in  a  spasm  and  splendor  of  resolve, 


I08  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

All  at  once  did  the  god  surmount  the  man. 

"  O  much-enduring  heart  and  hand  of  mine  ! 

Now  show  what  sort  of  son  she  bore  to  Zeus, 

That  daughter  of  Elektruon,  Tirun's  child. 

Alkmen^ !  for  that  son  must  needs  save  now 

The  just-dead  lady :  ay,  establish  here 

I'  the  house  again  Alkestis,  bring  about 

Comfort  and  succor  to  Admetos  so  ! 

I  will  go  lie  in  wait  for  Death,  black-stoled 

King  of  the  corpses !     I  shall  find  him,  sure, 

Drinking  beside  the  tomb,  o'  the  sacrifice : 

And  if  I  lie  in  ambuscade,  and  leap 

Out  of  my  lair,  and  seize  —  encircle  him 

Till  one  hand  join  the  other  round  about  — 

There  lives  not  who  shall  pull  him  out  from  me, 

Rib-mauled,  before  he  let  the  woman  go  ! 

But  even  say  I  miss  the  booty,  —  say, 

Death  comes  not  to  the  boltered  blood,  —  why  then, 

Down  go  I,  to  the  unsunned  dwelling-place 

Of  Kor^  and  the  king  there,  —  make  demand. 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  1 09 

Confident  I  shall  bring  Alkestis  back, 

So  as  to  put  her  in  the  hands  of  him 

My  host,  that  housed  me,  never  drove  me  off: 

Though  stricken  with  sore  sorrow,  hid  the  stroke, 

Being  a  noble  heart  and  honoring  me ! 

Who  of  Thessalians,  more  than  this  man,  loves 

The  stranger  ?    Who,  that  now  inhabits  Greece  ? 

Wherefore  he  shall  not  say  the  man  was  vile 

Whom  he  befriended,  —  native  noble  heart  1 " 

So,  one  look  upward,  as  if  Zeus  might  laugh 

Approved  of  his  human  progeny,  — 

One  summons  of  the  whole  magnific  frame, 

Each  sinew  to  its  service,  —  up  he  caught, 

And  over  shoulder  cast,  the  lion-shag, 

Let  the  club  go,  —  for  had  he  not  those  hands  ? 

And  so  went  striding  off,  on  that  straight  way 

Leads  to  Larissa  and  the  suburb  tomb. 

Gladness  be  with  thee.  Helper  of  our  world  ! 

I  think  this  is  the  authentic  sign  and  seal 

Of  godship,  that  it  ever  waxes  glad, 


no  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

And  more  glad,  until  gladness  blossoms,  bursts 

Into  a  rage  to  suffer  for  mankind, 

And  recommence  at  sorrow :  drops  like  seed 

After  the  blossom,  ultimate  of  all. 

Say,  does  the  seed  scorn  earth,  and  seek  the  sun  ? 

Surely  it  has  no  other  end  and  aim 

Than  to  drop,  once  more  to  die  into  the  ground, 

Taste  cold  and  darkness  and  oblivion  there : 

And  thence  rise,  tree-like  grow  through  pain  to  joy. 

More  joy  and  most  joy,  —  do  man  good  again. 

So,  off  strode  to  the  struggle  Herakles. 

When  silence  close  behind  the  lion-garb, 

Back  came  our  dull  fact  settling  in  its  place, 

Though  heartiness  and  passion  half-dispersed 

The  invitable  fate.     And  presently 

In  came  the  mourners  from  the  funeral. 

One  after  one,  until  we  hoped  the  last 

Would  be  Alkestis  and  so  end  our  dream. 

Could  they  have  really  left  Alkestis  lone 

I'  the  wayside  sepulchre  !     Home,  all  save  she  I 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  "I 

And  when  Admetos  felt  that  it  was, 

By  the  stand-still :  when  he  lifted  head  and  face 

From  the  two  hiding  hands  and  peplos'  fold, 

And  looked  forth,  knew  the  palace,  knew  the  hills. 

Knew  the  plains,  knew  the  friendly  frequence  there, 

And  no  Alkestis  any  more  again, 

Wliy  the  whole  woe  billow-like  broke  on  him. 

"  O  hateful  entiy,  hateful  countenance 

O'  the  widowed  halls  !  " — he  moaned.    "  What  was  to  be  ? 

Go  there  ?    Stay  here  ?    Speak,  not  speak  ?    All  was  now 

Mad  and  impossible  alike  ;  one  way 

And  only  one  was  sane  and  safe  —  to  die  : 

Now  he  was  made  aware  how  dear  is  death. 

How  lovable  the  dead  are,  how  the  heart 

Yearns  in  us  to  go  hide  where  they  repose. 

When  we  find  sunbeams  do  no  good  to  see. 

Nor  earth  rests  rightly  where  our  footsteps  falL 

His  \vife  had  been  to  him  the  very  pledge, 

Sun  should  be  sun,  earth  —  earth ;  the  pledge  was  robbed, 

Pact  broken,  and  the  world  was  left  no  world." 


112  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

He  Stared  at  the  impossible,  mad  life : 

Stood,  while  they  bade  "  Advance  —  advance !    Go  deep 

Into  the  utter  dark,  thy  palace-core  ! " 

They  tried  what  they  called  comfort,  "  touched  the  quick 

Of  the  ulceration  in  his  soul,"  he  said, 

With  memories,  —  "  once  thy  joy  was  thus  and  thus  !  " 

True  comfort  were  to  let  him  fling  himself 

Into  the  hollow  grave  o'  the  tomb,  and  so 

Let  him  lie  dead  along  with  all  he  loved. 

One  bade  him  note  that  his  own  family 
Boasted  a  certain  father  whose  sole  son. 
Worthy  bewailment,  died  :  and  yet  the  sire 
Bore  stoutly  up  against  the  blow  and  lived ; 
For  all  that  he  was  childless  now,  and  prone 
Already  to  gray  hairs,  far  on  in  life. 
Could  such  a  good  example  miss  effect  ? 
Why  fix  foot,  stand  so,  staring  at  the  house  ? 
Why  not  go  in,  as  that  wise  kinsman  would  ? 

"  O  that  arrangement  of  the  house  I  know  I 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  "3 

How  can  I  enter,  how  inhabil  thee, 

Now  that  one  cast  of  fortune  changes  all  ? 

Oh,  me  !  for  much  divides  the  then  from  now  ! 

Then  —  with  those  pine-tree  torches,  Pelian  pomp 

And  marriage-hymns,  I  entered,  holding  high 

The  hand  of  my  dear  wife  ;  while  many-voiced 

The  revelry  that  followed  me  and  her 

That's  dead  now,  —  friends  felicitating  both, 

As  who  were  lofty-lineaged,  each  of  us 

Born  of  the  best,  two  wedded  and  made  one  ; 

Now  —  wail  is  wedding-chant's  antagonist, 

And,  for  white  peplos,  stoles  in  sable  state 

Herald  my  way  to  the  deserted  couch  1 " 

The  one  word  more  they  ventured  was,  "  This  grief 
Befell  thee  witless  of  what  sorrow  means, 
Close  after  prosperous  fortune  :  but,  reflect ! 
Thou  hast  saved  soul  and  body.     Dead,  thy  wife  — 
Living,  the  love  she  left.     What's  novel  here  ? 
Many  the  man,  from  whom  Death  long  ago 
Loosed  the  life-partner  1 " 


114  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Then  Admetos  spoke : 
Turned  on  the  comfort,  with  no  tears,  this  time. 
He  was  beginning  to  be  like  his  wife. 
I  told  you  of  that  pressure  to  the  point, 
Word  slow  pursuing  word  in  monotone, 
Alkestis  spoke  with ;  so  Admetos,  now, 
Solemnly  bore  the  burden  of  the  truth. 
And  as  the  voice  of  him  grew,  gathered  strength, 
And  groaned  on,  and  persisted  to  the  end, 
We  felt  how  deep  had  been  descent  in  grief, 
And  with  what  change  he  came  up  now  to  light, 
And  left  behind  such  littleness  as  tears. 
"  Friends,  I  account  the  fortune  of  my  wife 
Happier  than  mine,  though  it  seem  otherwise  : 
For,  her  indeed  no  grief  will  ever  touch, 
And  she  from  many  a  labor  pauses  now. 
Renowned  one  !     Whereas  I,  who  ought  not  live. 
But  do  live,  by  evading  destiny. 
Sad  life  am  I  to  lead,  I  learn  at  last ! 
For  how  shall  I  bear  going  in-doors  here  ? 
Accosting  whom  ?     By  whom  saluted  back. 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  1 15 

Shall  I  have  joyous  entry?    Whither  turn  ? 
Inside,  the  solitude  will  drive  me  forth, 
When  I  behold  the  empty  bed  —  my  wife's — 
The  seat  she  used  to  sit  upon,  the  floor 
Unsprinkled  as  when  dwellers  loved  the  cool. 
The  children  that  will  clasp  my  knees  about. 
Cry  for  their  mother  back  :  these  servants  too 
Moaning  for  what  a  guardian  they  have  lost ! 
Inside  my  house  such  circumstance  awaits. 
Outside,  —  Thessalian  people's  marriage-feasts 
And  gatherings  for  talk  will  harass  me, 
With  overflow  of  women  everywhere ; 
It  is  impossible  I  look  on  them  — 
Familiars  of  my  wife  andjust  her  age! 
And  then,  whoever  is  a  foe  of  mine, 
And  lights  on  me  —  why,  this  will  be  his  word— 
•  See  there !  alive  ignobly,  there  he  skulks 
That  played  the  dastard  when  it  came  to  die. 
And,  giving  her  he  wedded,  in  exchange. 
Kept  himself  out  of  Hades  safe  and  sound, 
The  coward !     Do  you  call  that  creature  —  man  ? 


ri6  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

He  hates  his  parents  for  declining  death. 

Just  as  if  he  himself  would  gladly  die  •  * 

This  sort  of  reputation  shall  I  have, 

Beside  the  other  ills  enough  in  store. 

Ill-famed,  ill-faring,  —  what  advantage,  friends, 

Do  you  perceive  I  gain  by  life  for  death  ?  " 

That  was  the  truth.     Vexed  waters  sank  to  smooth  ; 

'T  was  only  when  the  last  of  bubbles  broke, 

The  latest  circlet  widened  all  away, 

And  left  a  placid  levei,  that  up  swam 

To  the  surface  the  drowned  truth,  in  dreadful  change. 

So,  through  the  quiet  and  submission,  —  ay, 

Spite  of  some  strong  words  —  (for  you  miss  the  tone) 

The  grief  was  getting  to  be  infinite  — 

Grief,  friends  fell  back  before.     Their  office  shrank 

To  that  old  solace  of  humanity  — 

"  Being  born  mortal,  bear  grief  1     Why  bom  else  ?  " 

And  they  could  only  meditate  anew. 

"  They,  too,  upborne  by  airy  help  of  song, 
And  haply  science,  which  can  find  the  stars, 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  H? 

Had  searched  the  heights :  had  sounded  depths  as  well 

By  catching  much  at  books  where  logic  lurked. 

Yet  nowhere  found  they  aught  could  overcome 

Necessity :  not  any  medicine  served, 

"Which  Thracian  tablets  treasure,  Orphic  voice 

Wrote  itself  down  upon  :  nor  remedy 

^Vhich  Phoibos  gave  to  the  Asklepiadai ; 

Cutting  the  roots  of  many  a  virtuous  herb 

To  solace  overburdened  mortals.     None ! 

Of  this  sole  goddess,  never  may  we  go 

To  altar  nor  to  image ;  sacrifice 

She  hears  not     All  to  pray  for  is,  —  *  Approach ! 

But,  oh,  no  harder  on  me,  awful  one, 

Than  heretofore !     Let  life  endure  thee  still  1 

For,  whatsoe'er  Zeus'  nod  decree,  that  same 

In  concert  with  thee  hath  accomplishment 

Iron,  the  verystu£f  o'  the  Chaluboi, 

Thou  by  sheer  strength  dost  conquer  and  subdue ; 

Nor,  of  that  harsh  abrupt  resolve  of  thine, 

Any  relenting  is  there  1 ' 


Il8  BALAUSTIOxV'S  ADVENTURE. 

"  O  my  king ! 
Thee  also,  in  the  shackles  of  those  hands, 
Unshunnable,  the  goddess  grasped  !     Yet,  bear  I 
Since  never  wilt  thou  lead  from  underground 
The  dead  ones.,  wail  thy  worst !     If  mortals  die,  - 
The  very  children  of  immortals,  too, 
Dropped  'mid  our  darkness,  these  decay  as  sure  I 
Dear  indeed  was  she  while  among  us :  dear, 
Now  she  is  dead,  must  she  forever  be  : 
Thy  portion  was  to  clasp,  within  thy  couch. 
The  noblest  of  all  women  as  a  wife. 
Nor  be  the  tomb  of  her  supposed  some  heap 
That  hides  mortality  :  but  like  the  gods 
Honored,  a  veneration  to  a  world 
Of  wanderers !     Oft  the  wanderer,  struck  thereby, 
Who  else  had  sailed  past  in  his  merchant-ship, 
Ay,  he  shall  leave  ship,  land,  long  wind  his  way 
Up  to  the  mountain-summit,  till  there  break 
Speech  forth,  '  So,  this  was  she,  then,  died  of  old 
To  save  her  husband  !  now  a  deity 
She  bends  above  us.     Hail,  benignant  one  I 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  I19 

Give  good ! '     Such  voices  so  will  supplicate. 

But  —  can  it  be  ?     Alkmene's  offspring  comes, 

Admetos !  —  to  thy  house  advances  here  !  " 

I  doubt  not,  they  supposed  him  decently 

Dead  somewhere  in  that  winter  world  of  Thrace  — 

Vanquished  by  one  o'  the  Bistones,  or  else 

Victim  to  some  mad  steed's  voracity  — 

For  did  not  friends  prognosticate  as  much  ? 

It  were  a  new  example  to  the  point. 

That  "  children  of  immortals,  dropped  by  stealth 

Into  our  darkness,  die  as  sure  as  we  !  " 

A  case  to  quote  and  comfort  people  with  : 

But,  as  for  lamentation,  ai  and  pheu. 

Right-minded  subjects  kept  them  for  their  lord. 

Ay,  he  it  was  advancing !     In  he  strode. 

And  took  his  stand  before  Admetos,  — turned 

Now  by  despair  to  such  a  quietude, 

He  neither  raised  his  face  nor  spoke,  this  time, 

The  while  his  friend  surveyed  him  steadily. 

That  friend  looked  rough  with  fighting :  had  he  strained 


I20  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Worst  brute  to  breast  was  ever  strangled  yet  ? 
Somehow,  a  victory  —  for  there  stood  the  strength, 
Happy,  as  always  ;  something  grave,  perhaps  ; 
The  great  vein-cordage  on  the  fret-worked  brow. 
Black-swollen,  beaded  yet  with  battle-drops 
The  yellow  hair  o'  the  hero  !  —  his  big  frame 
A-qiiiver  with  each  muscle  sinking  back 
Into  the  sleepy  smooth  it  leaped  from  late. 
Under  the  great  guard  of  one  arm,  there  leant 
A  shrouded  something,  live  and  woman-like, 
Propped  by  the  heart-beats  'neath  the  lion-coat. 
When  he  had  finished  his  survey,  it  seemed, 
The  heavings  of  the  heart  began  subside, 
The  helping  breath  returned,  and  last  the  smile 
Shone  out,  all  Herakles  was  back  again. 
As  the  words  followed  the  saluting  hand. 

"  To  friendly  man,  behooves  we  freely  speak, 
Admetos  !  —  nor  keep  buried,  deep  in  breast, 
Blame  we  leave  silent.     I  assuredly 
Juciged  myself  proper,  if  I  should  approach 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

By  accident  calamities  of  thine, 
To  be  demonstrably  thy  friend  :  but  thou 
Told'st  me  not  of  the  corpse  then  claiming  care, 
That  was  thy  wife's,  but  didst  instal  me  guest 
I'  the  house  here,  as  if  busied  with  a  grief 
Indeed,  but  then,  mere  grief  beyond  thy  gate  : 
And  so,  I  crowned  my  head,  and  to  the  gods 
Poured  my  libations  in  thy  dwelling-place. 
With  such  misfortune  round  me.     And  I  blame  — 
Certainly  blame  thee,  having  suffered  thus  ! 
But  still  I  would  not  pain  thee,  pained  enough : 
So  let  it  pass !     "Wherefore  I  seek  thee  now, 
Having  turned  back  again  though  onward  bound. 
That  I  will  tell  thee.     Take  and  keep  for  me 
^  This  woman,  till  I  come  thy  way  again. 
Driving  before  me,  having  killed  the  king 
O'  the  Bistones,  that  drove  of  Thracian  Steeds : 
[n  that  case,  give  the  woman  back  to  me  I 
But  should  I  fare,  —  as  fare  I  fain  would  not, 
Seeing  I  hope  to  prosper  and  return.  — 
Then,  I  bequeath  her  as  thy  household  slave. 


I2a  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

She  came  into  my  hands  with  good  hard  toil ! 

For,  what  find  I,  when  started  on  my  course, 

But  certain  people,  a  whole  country-side, 

Holding  a  wrestling-bout  ?  as  good  to  me 

As  a  new  labor :  whence  I  took,  and  here 

Come  keeping  with  me,  this,  the  victor's  prize. 

For,  such  as  conquered  in  the  easy  work, 

Gained  horses  which  they  drove  away :  and  such 

As  conquered  in  the  harder,  —  those  who  boxed 

And  wrestled,  —  cattle  ;  and,  to  crown  the  prize, 

A  woman  followed.     Chancing  as  I  did, 

Base  were  it  to  forego  this  fame  and  gain  ? 

Well,  as  I  said,  I  trust  her  to  thy  care : 

No  woman  I  have  kidnapped,  understand  ! 

But  good  hard  toil  has  done  it :  here  I  come ! 

Some  day,  who  knows  ?  even  thou  wilt  praise  the  feat ! 

Admetos  raised  his  face  and  eyed  the  pair : 
Then,  hollowly  and  with  submission,  spoke, 
And  spoke  again,  and  spoke  time  after  time. 
When  he  perceived  the  silence  of  his  friend 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  1 23 

Would  not  be  broken  by  consenting  word. 
As  a  tired  slave  goes  adding  stone  to  stone 
Until  he  stop  some  current  that  molests. 
So  poor  Admetos  piled  up  argument 
Vainly  against  the  purpose,  all  too  plain 
In  that  great  brow  acquainted  with  command. 

"Nowise  dishonoring,  nor  'mid  my  foes 
Ranking  thee,  did  I  hide  my  wife's  ill  fate. 
But  it  were  grief  superimposed  on  grief, 
Should'st  thou  have  hastened  to  another  home. 
My  own  woe  was  enough  for  me  to  weep ! 
But,  for  this  woman,  —  if  it  so  may  be,  — 
Bid  some  Thessalian,  —  I  entreat  thee,  king !  — 
Keep  her,  —  who  has  not  suffered  like  myself! 
Many  of  the  Pheraioi  welcome  thee  ! 
Be  no  reminder  to  me  of  my  ills  ! 
I  could  not,  if  I  saw  her  come  to  live, 
Restrain  the  tear  !     Inflict  on  me,  diseased, 
No  new  disease  :  woe  bends  me  down  enough  ! 
Then,  where  could  she  be  sheltered  in  my  house, 


124  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Female  and  young  too  ?     For  that  she  is  young, 

The  vesture  and  adornment  prove.     Reflect ! 

Should  such  an  one  inhabit  the  same  roof 

With  men  ?    And  how,  mixed  up,  a  girl,  with  youths, 

Shall  she  keep  pure,  in  that  case  ?     No  light  task 

To  curb  the  May-day  youngster,  Herakles  ! 

I  only  speak  because  of  care  for  thee  ! 

Or  must  I,  in  avoidance  of  such  harm. 

Make  her  to  enter,  lead  her  life  within 

The  chamber  of  the  dead  one,  all  apart  ? 

How  shall  I  introduce  this  other  couch, 

This  where  Alkestis  lay  ?     A  double  blame 

I  apprehend  :  first,  from  the  citizens  — 

Lest  some  tongue  of  them  taunt  that  I  betray 

My  benefactress,  fall  into  the  snare 

Of  a  new  fresh  face  :  then,  the  dead  one's  self,  — ■ 

Will  she  not  blame  me  likewise  ?     Worthy,  sure, 

Of  worship  from  me  !  circumspect,  my  ways. 

And  jealous  of  a  fault,  are  bound  to  be. 

But  thou,  —  O  woman  !  whosoe'er  thou  art,  — 

Know,  thou  hast  all  the  form,  art  like  as  like 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  125 

Alkestis,  in  the  bodily  shape  !     Ah,  me  ! 

Take,  —  by  the  gods  !  —  diis  woman  from  my  sightj 

Lest  thou  undo  me,  the  undone  before  ! 

Since  I  seem  —  seeing  her — as  if  I  saw 

My  own  wife  !     And  confusions  cloud  my  heart, 

And  from  my  eyes  the  springs  break  forth  !     Ah,  me 

Unhappy  !  —  how  I  taste  for  the  first  time 

My  misery  in  all  its  bitterness  !  " 

Wliereat  the  friends  conferred  :  "  The  chance,  in  truth. 

Was  an  untoward  one  —  none  said  otherwise. 

Still,  what  a  god  comes  giving,  good  or  bad. 

That,  one  should  take  and  bear  with.     Take  her.  then  ! " 

Herakles,  —  not  unfastening  his  hold 

On  that  same  misery,  beyond  mistake 

Hoarse  in  the  words,  convoilsive  in  the  face,  — 

"  I  would  that  I  had  such  a  power,"  said  he, 

"  As  to  lead  up  into  the  light  again 

'i'hy  \er)'  wife,  and  grant  thee  such  a  grace  !  '* 


126  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

"  Well  do  I  know  thou  would'st :  but  where  the  hope  ? 
There  is  no  bringing  back  the  dead  to  light." 

"  Be  not  extravagant  in  grief,  no  less  ! 
Bear  it,  by  augury  of  better  things  !  " 

"  *Tis  easier  to  advise  '  bear  up,'  than  bear ! " 

"  But  how  carve  way  i'  the  life  that  lies  before. 
If  bent  on  groaning  ever  for  the  past  ? " 

"  I  myself  know  that :  but  a  certain  love 
Allures  me  to  the  choice  I  shall  not  change." 

"  Ay,  but,  still  loving  dead  ones,  still  makes  weep  ! '' 

"  And  let  it  be  so  !     She  has  ruined  me, 
And  still  more  than  I  say  :  that  answers  all." 

"  Oh,  thou  hast  lost  a  brave  wife  !  who  disputes  ?  " 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  127 

"  So  brave  a  one  —  that  he  whom  thou  behold'st 
Will  never  more  enjoy  his  life  again  ! " 

"  Time  will  assuage  !     The  evil  yet  is  young !  " 

"  Time,  thou  ma/st  say,  will ;  if  time  mean  to  die." 

*  A  wife  —  the  longing  for  new  marriage-joys 
Will  stop  thy  sorrow ! " 

"  Hush,  friend,  —  hold  thy  peace ! 
What  hast  thou  said !     I  could  not  credit  ear ! " 

'*  How  then  ?    Thou  wilt  not  many,  then,  but  keep 
A  widowed  couch  ? " 

"  There  is  not  any  one 
Of  womankind  shall  couch  with  whom  thou  seest !  " 

"  Dost  think  to  profit  thus  in  any  way 
The  dead  one  ? " 

"  Her,  wherever  she  abide. 
My  duty  is  to  honor." 


128  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

"  And  I  praise  — 
Indeed  I  praise  thee !     Still,  thou  hast  to  pay 
The  price  of  it,  in  being  held  a  fool !  " 

"  Fool  call  me  —  only  one  name  call  me  not  1 
Bridegroom !  " 

"  No :  it  was  praise,  I  portioned  thee, 
Of  being  good  true  husband  to  thy  wife !  " 

'  When  I  betray  her  though  she  is  no  more, 
May  I  die  !  " 

And  the  thing  he  said  was  true  ; 
For  out  of  Herakles  a  great  glow  broke. 
There  stood  a  victor  worthy  of  a  prize  : 
The  violet-crown  that  withers  on  the  brow 
Of  the  half-hearted  claimant.     Oh,  he  knew 
The  signs  of  battle  hard  fought  and  well  won. 
This  queller  of  the  monsters  !  —  knew  his  friend 
Planted  firm  foot,  now,  on  the  loathly  thing 
That  was  Admetos  late  !  "  would  die,"  he  knew, 
Ere  let  the  reptile  raise  its  crest  again. 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  1 29 

If  that  was  truth,  why  trj'  the  true  friend  more  ? 

'*  Then,  since  thou  canst  be  faithful  to  the  death, 
Take,  deep  into  thy  house,  my  dame  !  "  smiled  he. 

"  Not  so !  —  I  pray,  by  thy  Progenitor  1 " 

"  Thou  wilt  mistake  in  disobeying  me ! " 

"  Obeying  thee,  I  have  to  break  my  heart !  " 

"  Obey  me  !  Wlao  knows  but  the  favor  done 
May  fall  into  its  place  as  duty  too  ?  " 

So,  he  was  humble,  would  decline  no  more 
Bearing  a  burden  :  he  just  sighed,  "  Alas  ! 
Wouldst  thou  hadst  never  brought  tiiis  prize  from  game  !  " 

'  Yet,  when  I  conquered  there,  thou  conqueredst !  " 

"  All  excellently  urged  1     Yet  —  spite  of  all. 


r30  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Bear  with  me  !  let  the  woman  go  away ! " 

"  She  shall  go,  if  needs  must :  but  ere  she  go, 
See  if  there  is  need !  " 

"  Need  there  is  !     At  least, 
Except  I  make  thee  angry  with  me,  so ! " 

"  But  I  persist,  because  I  have  my  spice 
Of  intuition  likewise :  take  the  dame  1 " 

"  Be  thou  the  victor,  then  !     But  certainly 
Thou  dost  thy  friend  no  pleasure  in  the  act ! " 

"  Oh,  time   will   come   when   thou    shalt    praise    rae  I 

Now  — 
Only  obey ! " 

"  Then,  servants,  since  my  house 
Must  needs  receive  this  woman,  take  her  there  I  " 

"  I  shall  not  trust  this  woman  to  the  care 
Of  servants." 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  131 

"  Why,  conduct  her  in  thyself. 
If  that  seem  preferable !  " 

"  I  prefer, 
With  thy  good  leave,  to  place  her  in  thy  hands  ! " 

"  I  would  not  touch  her  1  Entry  to  the  house  — 
That,  I  concede  thee." 

"  To  thy  sole  right-hand, 
I  mean  to  trust  her  ! " 

"  King  !  Thou  wrenchest  this 
Out  of  me  by  main  force,  if  I  submit !  " 

"  Courage,  friend !     Come,  stretch  hand  forth  !     Good  ! 

Now  touch 
The  stranger-woman  ! " 

"  There  !    A  hand  I  stretch  — 

A.S  though  it  meant  to  cut  off  Gorgon's  head !  " 

"  Hast  hold  of  her  ? " 

"  Fast  hold." 

"  Why,  then,  hold  fast 
And  have  her !  and,  one  day,  asseverate 


132  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Thou  wilt,  I  think,  thy  friend,  the  son  of  Zeus, 
He  was  the  gentle  guest  to  entertain  ! 
Look  at  her  !     See  if  she,  in  any  way, 
Present  thee  with  resemblance  of  thy  wife ! 

Ah,  but  the  tears  come,  find  the  words  at  fault ! 
There  is  no  telling  how  the  hero  twitched 
The  veil  off  :  and  there  stood,  with  such  fixed  eyes 
And  such  slow  smile,  Alkestis'  silent  self ! 
It  was  the  crowning  grace  of  that  great  heart. 
To  keep  back  joy:  procrastinate  the  truth 
Until  the  wife,  who  had  made  proof  and  found 
The  husband  wanting,  might  essay  once  more, 
Hear,  see,  and  feel  him  renovated  now  — 
Able  to  do,  now,  all  herself  had  done, 
Risen  to  the  height  of  her :  so,  hand  in  hand, 
The  two  might  go  together,  live  and  die. 

Beside,  when  he  found  speech,  you  guess  the  speech. 
He  could  not  think  he  saw  his  wife  again  : 
It  was  some  mocking  god  that  used  the  bliss 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  133 

To  make  him  mad  !     Till  Herakles  must  help  : 

Assure  him  that  no  spectre  mocked  at  all ; 

He  was  embracing  whom  he  buried  once. 

Still,  —  did  he  touch,  might  he  address  the  true,  — 

True  eye,  true  body,  of  the  true  live  wife  ? 

And  Herakles  said,  smiling  "  All  was  truth. 

Spectre  ?     Admetos  had  not  made  his  guest 

One  who  played  ghost-invoker,  or  such  cheat ! 

Oh,  he  might  speak  and  have  response,  in  time ! 

All  heart  could  wish  was  gained  now  —  life  for  death : 

Only,  the  rapture  must  not  grow  immense  : 

Take  care,  nor  wake  the  envy  of  the  gods !  " 

"  O  thou,  of  greatest  Zeus  true  son  ! "  —  so  spoke 
Admetos  when  the  closing  word  must  come, 
"  Go  ever  in  a  glory  of  success, 
And  save,  that  sire,  his  offspring  to  the  end  I 
For  thou  hast  —  only  thou  —  raised  me  and  mine 
Up  again  to  this  light  and  life  !  "     Then  asked 
Tremblingly,  how  was  trod  the  perilous  path 


134  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Out  of  the  dark  into  the  light  and  life  : 
How  it  had  happened  with  Alkestis  there. 

And  Herakles  said  little,  but  enough  — 

How  he  engaged  in  combat  with  that  king 

O'  the  demons  :  how  the  field  of  contest  lay 

By  the  tomb's  self :  how  he  sprang  from  ambuscade, 

Captured  Death,  caught  him  in  that  pair  of  hands. 

But  all  the  time,  Alkestis  moved  not  once 
Out  of  the  set  gaze  and  the  silent  smile ; 
And  a  cold  fear  ran  through  Admetos'  frame : 
"  Why  does  she  stand  and  front  me,  silent  thus  ? " 

Herakles  solemnly  replied,  "  Not  yet 

Is  it  allowable  thou  hear  the  things 

She  has  to  tell  thee :  let  evanish  quite 

That  consecration  to  the  lower  gods, 

And  on  our  upper  world  the  third  day  rise  ! 

Lead  her  in,  meanwhile  ;  good  and  true  thou  art, 

Good,  true,  remain  thou  !     Practise  piety 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  13S 

To  stranger-guests  the  old  way !     So,  farewell ! 
Since  forth  I  fare,  fulfil  my  urgent  task 
Set  by  the  king,  the  son  of  Sthenelos." 
Fain  would  Admetos  keep  that  splendid  smile 
Ever  to  light  him.     "  Stay  with  us,  thou  heart ! 
Remain  our  house-friend  1 " 

"  At  some  other  day ! 
Now,  of  necessity,  I  haste  ! "  smiled  he. 

"  But  may'st  thou  prosper,  go  forth  on  a  foot 
Sure  to  return  !     Through  all  the  tetrarchy, 
Command  my  subjects  that  they  institute 
Thanksgiving-dances  for  the  glad  event, 
And  bid  each  altar  smoke  with  sacrifice  ! 
For  we  are  minded  to  begin  a  fresh 
Existence,  better  than  the  life  before  ; 
Seeing,  I  own  myself  supremely  blest." 

Whereupon  all  the  friendly  moralists 

Drew  this  conclusion  :  chirped,  each  beard  to  each : 

"  Manifold  are  thy  shapings.  Providence  1 


136  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Many  a  hopeless  matter  gods  arrange. 

What  we  expected,  never  came  to  pass  : 

What  we  did  not  expect,  gods  brought  to  bear ; 

So  have  things  gone,  this  whole  experience  through  J  " 


Ah,  but  if  you  had  seen  the  play  itself! 

They  say,  my  poet  failed  to  get  the  prize  : 

Sophokles  got  the  prize-,  —  great  name !     They  say, 

Sophokles  also  means  to  make  a  piece, 

Model  a  new  Admetos,  a  new  wife  : 

Success  to  him  !     One  thing  has  many  sides. 

The  great  name  !     But  no  good  supplants  a  good. 

Nor  beauty  undoes  beauty.     Sophokles 

Will  carve  and  carry  a  fresh  cup,  brimful 

Of  beauty  and  good,  firm  to  the  altar-foot, 

And  glorify  the  Dionusiac  shrine  : 

Not  clash  against  this  crater,  in  the  place 

Where  the  god  put  it  when  his  mouth  had  drained, 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  137 

To  the  last  dregs,  libation  life-blood-like, 

A  nd  praised  Euripides  for  evermore  — 

The  Human  with  his  droppings  of  warm  tears. 

Still,  since  one  thing  may  have  so  many  sides, 

I  think  I  see  how,  —  far  from  Sophokles,  — 

You,  I,  or  any  one,  might  mould  a  new 

Admetos,  new  Alkestis.     Ah,  that  brave 

Bount\-  of  poets,  the  one  royal  race 

That  ever  was,  or  will  be,  in  this  world  ! 

They  give  no  gift  that  bounds  itself,  and  ends 

I'  the  giving  and  the  taking :  theirs  so  breeds 

r  the  heart  and  soul  o'  the  taker,  so  transmutes 

The  man  who  only  was  a  man  before, 

That  he  grows  god-like  in  his  turn,  can  give  — 

He  also :  share  the  poet's  privilege. 

Bring  forth  new  good,  new  beauty,  from  the  old- 

As  though  the  cup  that  gave  the  wine,  gave,  too. 

The  god's  prolific  giver  of  the  grape, 

That  xine,  was  wont  to  find  out,  fawn  around 

His  footstep,  springing  still  to  bless  the  dearth. 


X3.S  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

A.t  bidding  of  a  Mainad.     So  with  me  : 
For  I  have  drunk  this  poem,  quenched  my  thirst, 
Satisfied  heart  and  soul  —  yet  more  remains  ! 
Could  we  too  make  a  poem  ?     Try  at  least, 
Inside  the  head,  what  shape  the  rose-mists  take  1 

When  God  Apollon  took,  for  punishment, 
A  mortal  form,  and  sold  himself  a  slave 
To  King  Admetos  till  a  term  should  end,  — 
Not  only  did  he  make,  in  servitude, 
Such  music,  while  he  fed  the  flocks  and  herds. 
As  saved  the  pasturage  from  wrong  or  fright. 
Curing  rough  creatures  of  ungentleness : 
Much  more  did  that  melodious  wisdom  work 
Within  the  heart  o'  the  master :  there,  ran  wild 
Many  a  lust  and  greed  that  grow  to  strength 
By  preying  on  the  native  pity  and  care. 
Would  else,  all  undisturbed,  possess  the  land. 

And  these,  the  god  so  tamed,  with  golden  tongue, 
That,  in  the  plenitude  of  youth  and  power, 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  139 

Aclmetos  vowed  himself  to  rule  thenceforth 
In  Pherai  solely  for  his  people's  sake, 
Subduing  to  such  end  each  lust  and  greed 
That  dominates  the  natural  charity. 

And  so  the  struggle  ended.     Right  ruled  might : 

And  soft  yet  brave,  and  good  yet  wise,  the  man 

Stood  up  to  be  a  monarch  ;  having  learned 

The  worth  of  life,  life's  worth  would  he  bestow 

On  all  whose  lot  was  cast,  to  live  or  die, 

As  he  determined  for  the  multitude. 

So  stands  a  statue  :  pedestalled  sublime. 

Only  that  it  may  wave  the  thunder  off. 

And  ward,  from  winds  that  vex,  a  world  below. 

And  then,  —  as  if  a  whisper  found  its  way 

E'en  to  the  sense  o'  the  marble,  —  "  Vain  thy  vow ! 

The  royalty  of  its  resolve,  that  head 

Shall  hide  within  the  dust  ere  day  be  done : 

That  arm,  its  outstretch  of  beneficence. 

Shall  have  a  speedy  ending  on  the  earth  : 


14°  BALAUSTION'S  ADVEdTTURE. 

Lie  patient,  prone,  while  light  some  cricket  leaps 

And  takes  possession  of  the  masterpiece, 

To  sit,  sing  louder  as  more  near  the  sun. 

For  why  ?    A  flaw  was  in  the  pedestal ; 

Who   knows  ?     A  worm's  work !      Sapped,  the   certain 

fate 
O'  the  statue  is  to  fall,  and  thine  to  die !  " 
Whereat  the  monarch,  calm,  addressed  himself 
To  die,  but  bitterly  the  soul  outbroke  — 
"O  prodigality  of  life,  blind  waste 
r  the  world,  of  power  profuse  without  the  will 
To  make  life  do  its  work,  deserve  its  day  ! 
My  ancestors  pursued  their  pleasure,  poured 
The  blood  o'  the  people  out  in  idle  war, 
Or  took  occasion  of  some  weary  peace 
To  bid  men  dig  down  deep  or  build  up  high. 
Spend  bone  and  marrow  that  the  king  might  feast 
Intrenched  and  buttressed  from  the  vulgar  gaze. 
Yet  they  all  lived,  nay,  lingered  to  old  age : 
As  though  Zeus  loved  that  they  should  laugh  to  scorn 
The  vanity  of  seeking  other  ends, 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  I4» 


In  rule,  than  just  the  ruler's  pastime.     They 

Lived  ;  I  must  die." 

« 


And,  as  some  long  last  moan 
Of  a  minor  suddenly  is  propped  beneath 
By  note  which,  new-struck,  turns  the  wail,  that  was, 
Into  a  wonder  and  a  triumph,  so 
Began  Alkestis  :  "  Nay,  thou  art  to  live ! 
The  glory  that,  in  the  disguise  of  flesh, 
Was  helpful  to  our  house,  —  he  prophesied 
The  coming  fate  :    whereon,  I  pleaded  sore 
That  he,  —  I  guessed  a  god,  who  to  his  couch 
Amid  the  clouds  must  go  and  come  again, 
While  we  were  darkling,  —  since  he  loved  us  both. 
He  should  permit  thee,  at  whatever  price. 
To  live  and  carry  out  to  heart's  content 
Soul's  purpose,  turn  each  thought  to  very  deed. 
Nor  let  Zeus  lose  the  monarch  meant  in  thee. 

To  which  Apollon,  with  a  sunset  smile. 
Sadly  —  'And  so  should  mortals  arbitrate  I 


142  BALAUSTION'S    ADVENTURE. 

'  It  were  unseemly  if  they  aped  us  gods, 
And,  mindful  of  our  chain  of  consequence, 
Lost  care  of  the  immediate  earthly  link : 
Forewent  the  comfort  of  life's  little  hour. 
In  prospect  of  some  cold  abysmal  blank 
Alien  eternity,  —  unlike  the  time 
They  know,  and  understand  to  practise  with,  — 
No,  —  our  eternity,  —  no  heart's  blood,  bright 
And  warm  outpoured  in  its  behoof,  would  tinge 
Never  so  palely,  warm  a  whit  the  more ; 
Whereas  retained  and  treasured  —  left  to  beat 
Joyously  on,  a  life's  length,  in  the  breast 
O'  the  loved  and  loving,  —  it  would  throb  itself 
Through,  and  suffuse  the  earthly  tenement, 
Transform  it,  even  as  your  mansion  here 
Is  love-transformed  into  a  temple-home 
Where  I,  a  god,  forget  the  Olurapian  glow, 
r  the  feel  of  human  richness  like  the  rose ; 
Your  hopes  and  fears,  so  blind  and  yet  so  sweet. 
With  death  about  them.     Therefore,  well  in  thee 
To  look,  not  on  eternity,  but  time  : 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  143 

To  apprehend  that,  should  Admetos  die, 
All  we  gods  purposed  in  him  dies  as  sure : 
That,  life's  link  snapping,  all  our  chain  is  lost 
And  yet  a  mortal  glance  might  pierce,  methinks. 
Deeper  into  the  seeming  dark  of  things, 
And  learn,  no  fruit,  man's  life  can  bear,  will  fade  : 
Learn,  if  Admetos  die  now,  so  much  more 
Will  pity  for  the  frailness  found  in  flesh, 
Will  terror  at  the  earthly  chance  and  change 
Frustrating  wisest  scheme  of  noblest  soul, 
Will  these  go  wake  the  seeds  of  good  asleep 
Throughout  the  world  :  as  oft  a  rough  wind  sheds 
The  unripe  promise  of  some  field-flower,  —  true ! 
But  loosens  too  the  level,  and  lets  breathe 
A  thousand  captives  for  the  year  to  come. 
Nevertheless,  obtain  thy  prayer,  stay  fate  ? 
Admetos  lives  —  if  thou  wilt  die  for  him  ! ' 

So  was  the  pact  concluded  that  I  die. 
And  thou  live  on,  live  for  thyself  for  me. 
For  all  the  world.     Embrace  and  bid  me  hail, 


144  BALAUSriON'S  ADVENTURE. 

Husband,  because  I  have  the  victory  : 

Am  heart,  soul,  head  to  foot,  one  happiness  ! " 

Whereto  Admetos,  in  a  passionate  cr}^ 

"  Never,  by  that  true  word  ApoUon  spoke  ! 

All  the  unwise  wish  is  unwished,  O  wife  ! 

Let  purposes  of  Zeus  fulfil  themselves, 

If  not  through  me,  then  through  some  other  man  1 

Still,  in  myself  he  had  a  purpose  too. 

Inalienably  mine,  to  end  with  me  : 

This  purpose  —  that,  throughout  my  earthly  life, 

Mine  should  be  mingled  and  made  up  with  thine,  - 

And  we  two  prove  one  force,  and  play  one  part, 

And  do  one  thing.     Since  death  divides  the  pair, 

'Tis  well  that  I  depart,  and  thou  remain 

Who  wast  to  me  as  spirit  is  to  flesh  : 

Let  the  flesh  perish,  be  perceived  no  more, 

So  thou,  the  spirit  that  informed  the  flesh. 

Bend  yet  a  while,  a  very  flame  above 

The  rift  I  drop  into  the  darkness  by,  — 

And  bid  remember,  flesh  and  spirit  once 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE,  I4S 

Worked  in  the  world,  one  body,  for  man's  sake. 
Never  be  that  abominable  show 
Of  passive  death,  without  a  quickening  life  — 
Admetos  only,  no  Alkestis  now ! " 

Then  she,  "  O  thou  Admetos !  must  the  pile 
Of  truth  on  truth,  which  needs  but  one  truth  more 
To  tower  up  in  completeness,  trophy-like, 
Emprize  of  man,  and  triumph  of  the  world, 
Must  it  go  ever  to  the  ground  again 
Because  of  some  faint  heart  or  faltering  hand, 
Which  we,  that  breathless  world  about  the  base, 
Trusted  should  carry  safe  to  altitude, 
Superimpose  o'  the  summit  our  supreme 

^  Achievement,  our  victorious  coping-stone  ? 
Shall  thine.  Beloved,  prove  the  hand  and  heart 

,  That  fail  again,  flinch  backward  at  the  truth 
Would  cap  and  crown  the  structure  this  last  time,  — 
Precipitate  our  monumental  hope 
To  strew  the  earth  ignobly  yet  once  more  ? 
See  how,  truth  piled  on  truth,  the  structure  wants, 
7 


146  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Waits  just  the  crowning  truth  I  claim  of  thee ! 

Wouldst  thou,  for  any  joy  to  be  enjoyed, 

For  any  sorrow  that  thou  raightst  escape, 

Unwill  thy  will  to  reign  a  righteous  king  ? 

Nowise  !     And  were  there  two  lots,  death  and  life,  - 

Life,  wherein  good  resolve  should  go  to  air, 

Death,  whereby  finest  fancy  grew  plain  fact 

I'  the  reign  of  thy  survivor,  life  or  death  ? 

Certainly  death,  thou  choosest.     Here  stand  I 

The  wedded,  the  beloved :  hadst  thou  loved 

One  who  less  worthily  could  estimate 

Both  life  and  death  than  thou?     Not  so  should  say 

Admetos,  who  Apollon  made  come  court 

Alkestis  in  a  car,  submissive  brutes 

Of  blood  were  yoked  to,  symbolizing  soul 

Must  dominate  unruly  sense  in  man. 

Then  shall  Admetos  and  Alkestis  see 

Good  alike,  and  alike  choose,  each  for  each, 

Good,  —  and  yet,  each  for  the  other,  at  the  last, 

Choose  evil  ?     What?  thou  soundest  in  my  soul 

To  depths  below  the  deepest,  reachest  good 


BALAUSTION'S    ADVENTURE.  147 

In  evil,  that  makes  evil  good  again, 
And  so  allottest  to  me  that  I  live 
And  not  die  —  letting  die,  not  thee  alone, 
But  all  true  life  that  lived  in  both  of  us  ? 
Look  at  me  once  ere  thou  decree  the  lot !  " 

Therewith  her  whole  soul  entered  into  his, 
He  looked  the  look  back,  and  Alkestis  died. 

And  even  while  it  lay,  i'  the  look  gf  him. 

Dead,  the  dimmed  body,  bright  Alkestis'  soul 

Had  penetrated  through  the  populace 

Of  ghosts,  was  got  to  Kore,  —  throned  and  crowned 

The  pensive  queen  o'  the  twilight,  where  she  dwells 

Forever  in  a  muse,  but  half  away 

From  flowery  earth  she  lost  and  hankers  for,  — 

And  there  demanded  to  become  a  ghost 

Before  the  time. 

Whereat  the  softened  eyes 
Of  the  lost  maidenhood  that  lingered  still 


44^  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE. 

Straying  among  the  flowers  in  Sicily, 
Sudden  was  startled  back  to  Hades'  throne, 
By  that  demand :  broke  through  humanity 
Into  the  orbed  omniscience  of  a  god, 
Searched  at  a  glance  Alkestis  to  the  soul, 
And  said  —  while  a  long  slow  sigh  lost  itself 
I'  the  hard  and  hollow  passage  of  a  laugh  : 

"  Hence,  thou  deceiver  !     This  is  not  to  die,     ^ 

If,  by  the  very  death  \yhich  mocks  me  now, 

The  life,  that's  left  behind  and  past  my  power, 

Is  formidably  doubled.     Say,  there  fight 

Two  athletes,  side  by  side,  each  athlete  armed 

With  only  half  the  weapons,  and  no  more, 

Adequate  to  a  contest  with  their  foe : 

If  one  of  these  should  fling  helm,  sword,  and  shield 

To  fellow  —  shieldless,  swordless,  helmless  late  — 

And  so  leap  naked  o'er  the  barrier,  leave 

A  combatant  equipped  from  head  to  heel 

Vet  cry  to  the  other  side,  '  Receive  a  friend 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  149 

VVho  fights  no  longer  ! '     '  Back,  fiiend,  to  the  fray  ! ' 
Would  be  the  prompt  rebuff;  I  echo  it. 
Two  souls  in  one  were  formidable  odds  : 
Admetos  must  not  be  himself  and  thou  !  " 

And  so,  before  the  embrace  relaxed  a  whit, 
The  lost  eyes  opened,  still  beneath  the  look  ; 
And  lo,  Alkestis  was  alive  again, 
And  of  Admetos'  rapture  who  shall  speak  ? 

So,  the  two  lived  together  long  and  well. 
But  never  could  I  learn,  by  word  of  scribe 
Or  voice  of  poet,  rumor  weifts  our  way, 
That,  —  of  the  scheme  of  rule  in  righteousness, 
The  bringing  back  again  the  Golden  Age, 
Our  couple,  rather  than  renounce,  would  die  — 
Ever  one  first  faint  particle  came  true, 
With  both  alive  to  bring  it  to  effect : 
Such  is  the  env)'  gods  still  bear  mankind ! 

So  might  our  version  of  the  story  prove, 


150  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.      ■ 

And  no  Euripidean  pathos  plague 
Too  much  my  critic-friend  of  Syracuse. 

''  Besides  your  poem  failed  to  get  the  prize : 
(That  is,  the  first  prize :  second  prize  is  none.) 
Sophokles  got  it ! "     Honor  the  great  name ! 
All  cannot  love  two  great  names ;  yet  some  do ; 
I  know  the  poetess  who  graved  in  gold, 
Among  her  glories  that  shall  never  fade, 
This  style  and  title  for  Euripides, 
The  Human  with  his  droppings  of  warm  tears. 

I  know,  too,  a  great  Kaunian  painter,  strong 
As  Herakles,  though  rosy  with  a  robe 
Of  grace  that  softens  down  the  sinewy  strength : 
And  he  has  made  a  picture  of  it  all. 
There  lies  Alkestis  dead,  b.eneath  the  sun. 
She  longed  to  look  her  last  upon,  beside 
The  sea,  which  somehow  tempts  the  life  in  us 
To  come  trip  over  its  white  waste  of  waves, 
And  try  escape  from  earth,  and  fleet  as  free. 


BALAUSTION'S  ADVENTURE.  151 

Behind  the  body,  I  suppose  there  bends 
Old  Pheres  in  his  hoary  impotence  ; 
And  women-wailers,  in  a  corner  crouch 

—  Four,  beautiful  as  you  four  —  yes,  indeed !  — 
Close,  each  to  other,  agonizing  all, 

As  fastened,  in  fear's  rhythmic  sympathy, 

To  two  contending  opposite.     There  strains 

The  might  o'  the  hero  'gainst  his  more  than  match, 

—  Death,  dreadful  not  in  thew  and  bone,  but  like 
The  envenomed  substance  that  exudes  some  dew. 
Whereby  the  merely  honest  flesh  and  blood 

Will  fester  up  and  run  to  ruin  straight, 

Ere  they  can  close  with,  clasp  and  overcome 

The  poisonous  impalpability 

That  simulates  a  form  beneath  the  flow 

Of  those  gray  garments  ;  I  pronounce  that  piece 

Worthy  to  set  up  in  our  Poikil^  ! 

And  all  came,  —  glory  of  the  golden  verse, 
And  passion  of  the  picture,  and  that  fine 
Frank  outgush  of  the  human  gratitude 


tS2  BALAUSTION'S  ADVENIURE. 

Which  sa  (red  our  ship  and  me,  in  Syracuse,  — 
Ay,  and  the  tear  or  two  which  slipt  perhaps 
Away  from  you,  friends,  while  I  told  my  tale, 
—  It  all  came  of  this  play  that  gained  no  prize  ! 
Why  crown  whom  Zeus  has  crowned  in  soul  before  ? 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY: 

INCLUDING 

A  TRANSCRIPT  FROM  EC/RIP  IDES, 

BEING  THE 

LAST  ADVENTURE  OF  BALAUSTION. 


ol)K  ladu  KEvifipei'  •  dmrav  ()h  ^vyc  ri,  xuKei  /le. 

I  eat  no  carrion ;  when  you  sacrifice 

Some  cleanly  creature — call  me  for  a  slice ! 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY. 


Wind,  wave,  and  bark,  bear  Euthukles  and  me, 
Balaustion,  from  —  not  sorrow  but  despair, 
Not  memory  but  the  present  and  its  pang! 
Athenai,  live  thou  hearted  in  my  heart : 
Never,  while  I  live,  may  I  see  thee  more, 
Never  again  may  these  repugnant  orbs 
Ache  themselves  blind  before  the  hideous  pomp, 
The  ghastly  mirth  which  mocked  thine  overthrow 
—  Death's  entry,  Haides'  outrage  ! 

Doomed  to  die, 
Fire  should  have  flung  a  passion  of  embrace 
About  thee  till,  resplendently  inarmed, 
(Temple  by  temple  folded  to  his  breast, 
All  thy  white  wonder  fainting  out  in  ash) 


156  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Some  vaporous  sigh  of  soul  had  lightly  'scaped, 

And  so  the  Immortals  bade  Athenai  back ! 

Or  earth  might  sunder  and  absorb  thee,  save, 

Buried  below  Olumpos  and  its  gods, 

Akropolis  to  dominate  her  realm 

For  Kore,  and  console  the  ghosts  ;   or,  sea, 

What  if  thy  watery  plural  vastitude, 

Rolling  unanimous  advance,  had  rushed,  / 

Might  upon  might,  a  moment,  —  stood,  one  stare, 

Sea-face  to  city-face,  thy  glaucous  wave 

Glassing  that  marbled  last  magnificence,  — 

Till  fate's  pale  tremulous  foam-flower  tipped  the  gray, 

And  when  wave  broke  and  overswarmed  and,  sucked 

To  bounds  back,  multitudinously  ceased. 

And  land  again  breathed  unconfused  with  sea, 

Attikd  was,  Athenai  was  not  now ! 

Such  end  I  could  have  borne,  for  I  had  shared. 
But  this  which,  glanced  at,  aches  within  my  orbs 
To  blinding,  —  bear  me  thence,  bark,  wind  and  wave  ! 
Me,  Euthukles,  and,  hearted  in  each  heart, 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  157 

Athenai,  undisgraced  as  Pallas'  self, 

Bear  to  my  birth-place,  Helios'  island-bride, 

Zeus'  darling :    thither  speed  us,  homeward-bound, 

Wafted  already  twelve  hours'  sail  away 

From  horror,  and  a  sunset  nearer  Rhodes  ! 

Why  should  despair  be?     Since,  distinct  above 

Man's  wickedness  and  folly,  flies  the  wind 

And  floats  the  cloud,  free  transport  for  our  soul 

Out  of  its  fleshly  durance  dim  and  low,  — 

Since  disembodied  soul  anticipates 

(Thought-borne  as  now,  in  rapturous  unrestraint) 

Above  all  crowding,  cr)'stal  silentness. 

Above  all  noise,  a  silver  solitude  :  — 

Surely,  where  thought  so  bears  soul,  soul  in  time 

May  permanently  bide,  "  assert  the  wise," 

There  live  in  peace,  there  work  in  hope  once  more, 

O  nothing  doubt,  Philemon  !     Greed  and  strife, 

Hatred  and  cark  and  care,  what  place  have  they 

In  yon  blue  liberality  of  heaven  ? 

How  the  sea  helps !     How  rose-smit  earth  will  rise 


158  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Breast-high    thence,    some    bright    morning,    and    be 

RhocksJ 
Heaven,  earth  and  sea,  my  warrant  —  in  their  name, 
Believe  —  o'er  falsehood,  truth  is  surely  sphered. 
O'er  ugliness  beams  beauty,  o'er  this  world 
Extends  that  realm  where,  "as  the  wise  assert," 
Philemon,  thou  shalt  see  Euripides 
Clearer  than  mortal  sense  perceived  the  man  ! 
A  sunset  nearer  Rhodes,  by  twelve  hours'  sweep 
Of  surge  secured  from  horror?     Rather  say, 
Quieted  out  of  weakness  into  strength. 
I  dare  invite,  survey  the  scene  my  sense 
Staggered  to  apprehend:  for,  disenvolved 
From  the  mere  outside  anguish  and  contempt, 
Slowly  a  justice  centred  in  a  doom 
Reveals  itself.     Ay,  pride  succumbed  to  pride, 
Oppression  met  the  oppressor  and  its  match. 
Athenai's  vaunt  braved  Spartd's  violence 
Till,  in  the  shock,  prone  fell  Peiraios,  low 
Rampart  and  bulwark  lay,  as,  —  timing  stroke 
Of  hammer,  axe,  beam  hoist  and  poised  and  swung,  — 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  159 

The  very  flute-girls  blew  their  laughing  best, 

In  dance  about  the  conqueror  while  he  bade 

Music  and  merriment  help  enginery 

Batter  down,  break  to  pieces  all  their  trust, 

Those  citizens  once,  slaves  now.     See  what  walls 

Play  substitute  for  the  long  double  range 

Themistoklean,  heralding  a  guest 

From  harbor  on  to  citadel  !     Each  side 

Th'j  senseless  walls  demolished  stone  by  stone, 

See,  —  outer  wall  as  stonelike,  —  heads  and  hearts,  — 

Athenai's  terror-stricken  populace  ! 

Prattlers,  tongue-tied  in  crouching  abjectness,  — 

Braggarts,  who  wring  hands  wont  to  flourish  swords  — 

Sophist  and  rhetorician,  demagogue, 

(Argument  dumb,  authority  a  jest) 

Dikast  and  heliast,  pleader,  litigant. 

Quack-priest,  sham-prophecy-retailer,  scout 

O'  the  customs,  sycophant,  whate'er  the  style, 

Altar-scrap-snatcher,  pimp  and  parasite, — 

Rivalities  at  truce  now  each  with  each. 

Stupefied  mud-banks,  —  that's  the  use  they  serve  1 


l6o  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

While  the  one  order  which  performs  exact 
To  promise,  functions  faithful  last  as  first,  , 
What  is  it  but  the  city's  lyric  troop, 
Chantress  and  psaltress,  flute-girl,  dancing-girl  ? 
Athenai's  harlotry  takes  laughing  care 
Their  patron  miss  no  pipings,  late  she  loved, 
But  deathward  tread  at  least  the  kordax-step. 

Die  then,  who  pulled  such  glory  on  your  heads ! 
There  let  it  grind  to  powder  !     Perikles  ! 
The  living  are  the  dead  now  :    death  be  life  ! 
Why  should  the  sunset  yonder  waste  its  wealth? 
Prove  thee  Olympian  !     If  my  heart  supply 
Inviolate  the  structure,  —  true  to  type, 
Build  me  some  spirit-place  no  flesh  shall  find, 
As  Pheidias  may  inspire  thee  ;   slab  on  slab, 
Renew  Athenai,  quarry  out  the  cloud, 
Convert  to  gold  yon  west  extravagance  ! 
'Neath  Propulaia,  from  Akropolis 
By  vapory  grade  and  grade,  gold  all  the  way, 
Step  to  thy  snow-Pnux,  mount  thy  Bema-cloud, 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  l6l 

Thunder  and  lighten  thence  a  Hellas  through 

That  shall  be  better  and  more  beautiful 

And  too  august  for  Spartd's  foot  to  spurn  ! 

Chasnied  in  the  crag,  again  our  Theatre 

Predominates,  one  purple :    Staghunt-month, 

Brings  it  not  Dionusia  ?     Hail,  the  Three  ! 

Aischulos,  Sophokles,  Euripides 

Compete,  gain  prize  or  lose  prize,  godlike  still. 

Na\%  lest  they  lack  the  old  god-exercise  — 

Their  noble  want  the  unworthy,  —  as  of  old, 

(How  otherwise  should  patience  crown   their  might  ?) 

What  if  each  fincJ  his  ape  promoted  man, 

His  censor  raised  for  antic  service  still  ? 

Some  new  Hermippos  to  pelt  Perikles, 

Kratinos  to  swear  Pheidias  robbed  a  shrine, 

Eruxis  —  I  suspect,  Euripides, 

No  brow  will  ache  because  with  mop  and  mow 

He  gibes  my  poet?     There's  a  dog-faced  dwarf/ 

That  gets  to  godship  somehow,  yet  retains 

His  apehood  in  the  Egyptian  hierarchy, 

More  decent  yet  indecorous  enough: 


l62  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Why  should  not  dog-ape,  graced  in  due  degree, 
Grow     Momos     as     thou     Zeus  ?       Or     didst     thou 

sigh 
Rightly  with  thy  Makaria  ?     "  After  life, 
Better  no  sentiency  than  turbulence  ; 
Death  cures  the  low  contention."     Be  it  so ! 
Yet  progress  means  contention,  to  my  mind. 

Euthukles,  who,  except  a  love  that  speaks, 
Art  silent  by  my  side  while  words  of  mine 
Provoke  that  foe  from  which  escape  were  vain 
Henceforward,  wake  Athenai's  fate  and  fall,  — 
Do  I  amiss,  who  wanting  strength  use  craft, 
Advance  upon  the  foe  I  cannot  fly. 
Nor  feign  a  snake  is  dormant  though  it  gnaw  ? 
That  fate  and  fall,  once  bedded  in  our  brain. 
Roots  itself  past  upwrenching ;   but  coaxed  forth 
Encouraged  out  to  practise  fork  and  fang,  — 
Possibly,  satiate  with  prompt  sustenance. 
It  may  pine  off  far  likelier  than  left  swell 
In  peace  by  our  pretension  to  ignore, 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  163 

Oi  pricked  to  threefold  fury,  should  our  stamp 
Bruise  and  not  brain  the  pest. 

A  middle  course. 
What  hinders  that  we  treat  this  tragic  theme 
As     the     Three     taught    when     either    woke     some 

woe, 
—  How  Klutaimnestra  hated,  what  the  pride 
Of  lokastd,  why  Medeia  clove 
Nature  asunder.     Small  rebuked  by  large, 
We  felt  our  puny  hates  refine  to  air, 
Our  prides  as  poor  prevent  the  humbling  hand. 
Our  petty  passion  purify  its  tide. 
So,  Euthukles,  permit  the  tragedy 
To  re-enact  itself,  this  voyage  through. 
Till  sunsets  end  and  sunrise  brighten  Rhodes  J 
Majestic  on  the  stage  of  memory, 
Peplosed  and  kothorned,  let  Athenai  fall 
Once  more,  nay,  oft  again  till  life  conclude, 
Lent  for  the  lesson  :   Choros,  I  and  thou. 
What  else  in  life  seems  piteous  any  more 


l64  ARISTOPHANES'    APOLOGY. 

After  such  pity,  or  proves  terrible 
Beside  such  terror? 

Still — since  I'hmnichos 
Offended,  by  too  premature  a  touch 
Of  that  Milesian  smart-place  freshly  frayed  — 
(Ah,  my  poor  people,  whose  prompt  remedy 
Was  —  fine  the  poet,  not  reform  thyself!) 
Beware  precipitate  approach  !     Rehearse 
Rather  the  prologue,  well  a  year  away, 
Than  the  main  misery,  a  sunset  old. 
What  else  but  fitting  prologue  to  the  piece 
Style  an  adventure,  stranger  than  my  first 
By  so  much  as  the  issue  it  enwombed 
Lurked  big  beyond  Balaustion's  littleness? 
Second  supreme  adventure  !     O  that  Spring, 
That  eve  I  told  the  earlier  to  my  friends  ! 
Where  are  the  four  now,  with  each  red-ripe  mouth 
Crumpled  so  close,  no  quickest  breath  it  fetched 
Could  disengage  the  lip-flower  furled  to  bud 
For  fear  Admetos,  —  shivering  head  and  foot, 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  165 

As  with  sick  soul  and  blind  averted  face 

He  trusted  hand  forth  to  obey  his  friend, — 

Should  find  no  wife  in  her  cold  hand's  response, 

Nor  see  the  disenshrouded  statue  start 

Alkestis,  live  the  life  and  love  the  love  ! 

I  wonder,  does  the  streamlet  ripple  still, 

Out-smoothing  galingal  and  watermint 

Its  mat-floor?  while  at  brim,  'twixt  sedge  and  sedge. 

What  bubblings  past  Baccheion,  broadened  much. 

Pricked  by  the  reed  and  fretted  by  the  fly. 

Oared  by  the  boatman-spider's  pair  of  arms ! 

Lenaia  was  a  gladsome  month  ago  — 

Euripides  had  taught  "  Andromeda :" 

Next   month,    would    teach    "  Kresphontes  "  —  which 

same  month, 

Some  one  from  Phokis,  who  companioned  me 

Since  all  that  happened  on  those  temple-steps. 

Would  marry  me  and  turn  Athenian  too. 

\    Now!   if  next  year  the  masters  let  the  slaves 
I 

Do  Bacchic  service  and  restore  mankind 

That  trilogy  whereof,  'tis  noised,  one  play 


l66  ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY. 

Presents  the  Bacchai,  —  no  Euripides 
Will  teach  the  choros,  nor  shall  we  be  tinged 
By  any  such  grand  sunset  of  his  soul, 
Exiles  from  dead  Athenai,  —  not  the  new 
That's  in  the  cloud  there  with  the  star  above ! 

Speak  to  the  infinite  intelligence, 

Sing  to  the  everlasting  sympathy ! 

Winds  belly  sail,  and  drench  of  dancing  brine 

Buffet  our  boat-side,  so  the  prore  bound  free  • 

Condense  our  voyage  into  one  great  day 

Made  up  of  sunset-closes  :    eve  by  eve, 

Resume  that  memorable  night-discourse 

When,  —  like  some  meteor-brilliance,  fire  and  filth, 

Or  say,  his  own  Amphitheos,  deity 

And  dung,  who,  bound  on  the  gods'  embassage, 

Got  men's  acknowledgment  in  kick  and  cuff  — 

We  made  acquaintance  with  a  visitor 

Ominous,  apparitional,  who  went 

Strange  as  he  came,  but  shall  not  pass  away. 

Let  us  attempt  that  memorable  talk, 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  167 

Clothe  the  adventure's  every  incident 
With  due  expression  :   may  not  looks  be  told, 
Gesture  made  speak,  and  speech  so  amplified 
That  words  find   blood-wannth  which,  cold-writ,  they 
lose  ? 

Recall  the  night  we  heard  the  news  from  Thrace, 
One  year  ago,  Athenai  still  herself. 

We,  tAvo  were  sitting  silent  in  the  house, 
Yet  cheerless  hardly.     Euthukles,  forgive ! 
I  somehow  speak  to  unseen  auditors. 
Not  you,  but  —  Euthukles  had  entered,  grave. 
Grand,  may  I  say,  as  who  brings  laurel-branch 
And  message  from  the  tripod :   such  it  proved. 

He  first  removed  the  garland  from  his  brow, 
Then  took  my  hand  and  looked  into  my  face. 
'•  Speak  good  words  ! "  much  misgiving  faltered  I. 

'Good  words,  the  best,  Balaustion!     He  is  crowned. 
Gone  with  his  Attic  iv^  home  to  feast, 


1 68  ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY. 

Since  Aischulos  required  companionship. 
Pour  a  libation  for  Euripides !  " 

When  we  had  sat  the  heavier  silence  out  — 

"  Dead  and  triumphant  still ! "  began  reply 

To  my  eye's  question.     "  As  he  willed,  he  worked : 

And,  as  he  worked,  he  wanted  not,  be  sure. 

Triumph  his  whole  life  through,  submitting  work 

To  work's  right  judges,  never  to  the  wrong, 

To  competency,  not  ineptitude. 

When  he  had  run  life's  proper  race  and  worked 

Quite  to  the  stade's  end,  there  remained  to  try 

Its  turning,  should  strength  dare  the  double  course. 

Half  the  diaulos  reached,  the  hundred  plays 

Accomplished,  force  in  its  rebound  sufficed 

To  lift  along  the  athlete  and  insure 

A  second  wreath,  proposed  by  fools  for  first, 

The  statist's  olive  as  the  poet's  bay. 

Wiselier^  he  suffered  not  confuse  his  sight, 

Retard  his  pace  a  twofold  aim,  at  once 

Poet  and  statist ;    though  the  multitude 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  169 

Girded  him  ever  *  All  thine  aim  thine  art  ? 

The  idle  poet  only  ?     No  regard 

For  civic  duty,  public  service,  here  ? 

We  drop  our  ballot-bean  for  Sophokles ! 

Not  only  could  he  write  "Antigond," 

But  —  since,  we  argued,  whoso  penned  that  piece 

Might  just  as  well  conduct  a  squadron, — straight 

Good-naturedly  he  took  on  him  command, 

Got  laughed  at  and  went  back  to  making  plays. 

Having  allowed  us  our  experiment 

Respecting  the  fit  use  of  faculty.' 

No  whit  the  more  did  athlete  slacken  pace. 

Soon  the  jeers  grew :    '  Cold  hater  of  his  kind, 

A  sea-cave  suits  him,  not  the  vulgar  hearth ! 

What  need  of  tongue-talk,  with  a  bookish  store 

Would  stock  ten  cities  ? '     Shadow  of   an   ass ! 

No  whit  the  worse  did  athlete  touch  the  mark. 

And,  at  the  turning-point,  consign  his  scorn 

O'  the  scomers  to  that  final  trilogy 

'  Hupsipule,'  '  Phoinissai,'  and  the  Match 

Of  Life  Contemplative  with  Active  Life, 


170  ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY. 

Zethos  against  Amphion,     Ended  so  ? 

Nowise  !  —  began  again  ;    for  heroes  rest 

Dropping  shield's  oval  o'er  the  entire  man  ; 

And  he  who  thus  took  Contemplation's  prize, 

Turned  stade-point  but  to  face  Activity. 

Out  of  all  shadowy  hands  extending  help 

For  life's  decline  pledged  to  youth's  enterprise, 

Whatever  renovation  flatter  age,  — 

Society  with  pastime,  solitude 

With  peace,  —  he  chose  the  hand  that  gave  the  heart, 

Bade  Macedonian  Archelaos  take 

The  leavings  of  Athenai,  ash  once  flame. 

For  fifty  politicians'  frosty  make. 

One  poet's  ash  found  ample  and  to  spare, 

He  propped  the  state  and  filled  the  treasury: 

Counselled  the  king  as  might  a  meaner  soul, 

Furnished  the  friend  with  what  shall  stand  in  stead 

Of  crown  and  sceptre,  star  his  name  about 

When  these  are  dust ;   for  him,  Euripides 

Last  the  old  hand  on  the  old  phorminx  flung. 

Clashed  thence  '  Alkaion,'  maddened  *  Pentheus '  up 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  l/i 

Then  music  sighed  itself  away,  one  moan 
Iphigeneia  made  by  Aulis'  strand ; 
With  her  and  music  died  Euripides. 

"  The  poet-friend  who  followed  him  to  Thrace, 
Agathon,  wrote  thus  much :   the  merchant-ship 
Moreover  brought  a  message  from  the  king 
To  young  Euripides,  who  went  on  board 
This  morning  at  Mounuchia :    all  is  true." 

I  said,  "  Thank  Zeus  for  the  great  news  and  good !  ** 

"  Nay,  the  report  is  running  in  brief  fire 
Through  the  town's  stubbly  furrow,"  he  resumed ; 
—  "  Entertains  brightly  what  their  favorite  styles 
'  The  City  of  Gapers  '  for  a  week  perhaps. 
Supplants  three  luminous  tales,  but  yesterday 
Pronounced  sufficient  lamps  to  last  the  month: 
How  Glauketes,  outbidding  Morsimos, 
Paid  market-price  for  one  Kopaic  eel 
4l  thousand  drachmai,  and  then  cooked  his  prize 


172  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Not  proper  conger-fashion  but  in  oil 

And  nettles,  as  man  fries  the  foam-fish-kind ; 

How  all  the  captains  of  the  triremes,  late 

Victors  at  Arginousai,  on  return 

Will,  for  reward,  be  straightway  put  to  death ; 

How  Mikon  wagered  a  Thessalian  mime 

Trained  him  by  Lais,  looked  on  as  complete, 

Against  Leogoras'  blood-mare  koppa-marked, 

Valued  six  talents,  —  swore,  accomplished  so. 

The  girl  could  swallow  at  a  draught,  nor  breathe, 

A  choinix  of  unmixed  Mendesian  wine  ; 

And  having  lost  the  match  will  —  dine  on  herbs ! 

Three  stories  late  a-flame,  at  once  extinct. 

Out-blazed  by  just  '  Euripides  is  dead '  ! 

"  I  met  the  concourse  from  the  Theatre, 
The  audience  flocking  homeward :   victory 
Again  awarded  Aristophanes 
Precisely  for  his  old  play  chopped  and  changed 
'The  Female  Celebrators  of  the  Feast'  — 
That  Thesmophoria :   tried  a  second  time, 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  1 73 

'  Never  such  full  success  ! '  —  assured  the  folk, 
Who  yet  stopped  praising  to  have  word  of  mouth 

With  'Euthukles,  the  bard's  own  intimate, 
Balaustion's  husband,  the  right  man  to  ask.' 

"  *  Dead,  yes,  but  how  dead,  may  acquaintance  know  ? 
You  were  the  couple  constant  at  his  cave  : 
Tell  us  now,  is  it  true  that  women,  moved 
By  reason  of  his  liking  Krateros '  .  .  . 

"  I  answered,  '  He  was  loved  by  Sokrates.' 

"  *  Nay,'  said  another,  *  envy  did  the  work ! 
For,  emulating  poets  of  the  place, 
One  Arridaios,  one  Krateues,  both 
Established  in  the  royal  favor,  these'  .  .  . 

"  '  Protagoras  instructed  him,'  said  I. 
'  Phu^  whistled  Comic  Platon,  *  hear  the  fact  i 
'Twas  well  said  of  your  friend  by  Sophokles, 
"  He  hate  our  women  ?     In  his  verse,  belike. 


174  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

But  when  it  comes  to  prose-work,  —  ha,  ha,  ha ! " 
New     climes     don't     change     old    manners :      so,    it 

chanced, 
Pursuing  an  intrigue  one  moonless  night 
With  Arethousian  Nikodikos'  wife, 
(Come  now,  his  years  were  simply  seventy-five) 
Crossing  the  palace-court,  what  haps  he  on 
But  Archelaos'  pack  of  hungry  hounds  ? 
Who  tore  him  piecemeal  ere  his  cry  brought  help.' 

"  I  asked  :  '  Did  not  you  write,  "  The  Festivals  "  ? 

You  best  know  what  dog  tore  him  when  alive. 

You  others,  who  now  make  a  ring  to  hear, 

Have  not  you  just  enjoyed  a  second  treat. 

Proclaimed  that  ne'er  was  play  more  worthy  prize 

Than  this,  myself  assisted  at,  last  year, 

And  gave  its  worth  to,  — spitting  on  the  same? 

Appraise  no  poetry,  —  price  cuttlefish. 

Or  that  seaweed-alphestes,  scorpion-sort, 

Much  famed  for  mixing  mud-  with  fantasy 

Of  midnights !  I  interpret  no  foul  dreams." 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  t1% 

If  so  said  Euthukles,  so  could  not  I, 
Balaustion,  say.     After  "  Lusistratd  " 
No  more  for  me  of  "people's  privilege," 
No  witnessing  '•  the  grand  old  Comedy 
Coeval  with  our  freedom,  which,  curtailed, 
Were  freedom's  deathblow:    relic  of  the  past, 
When  Virtue  laughingly  told  truth  to  Vice, 
Uncensured,    since     the   stern     mouth,    stuffed    with 

flowers, 
Through  poetry  breathed  satire,  perfumed  blast 
Which  sense  snuffed  up  while  searched  unto  the  bone!" 
I  was  a  stranger:  "For  first  joy,"  urged  friends, 
"Go  hear  our  Comedy,  some  patriot  piece 
That  plies  the  selfish  advocates  of  war 
With  argument  so  unevadible 
That  crash  fall  Kleons  whom  the  finer  play 
Of  reason,  tickling,  deeper  wounds  no  whit 
Than  would  a  spear-thrust  from  a  savory-stalk ! 
No:   you  hear  knave  and  fool  told  crime  and  fault, 
And  see  each  scourged  his  quantity  of  stripes. 
'  Rough  dealing,  awkward  language,'  whine  our  fops : 


176  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

The  world's  too  squeamish  now  to  bear  plain  words 

Concerning  deeds  it  acts  with  gust  enough : 

But,  thanks  to  wine-lees  and  democracy, 

We've  still  our  stage  where  truth  calls  spade  a  spaae ! 

Ashamed?     Phuromachos'  decree  provides 

The  sex  may  sit  discreetly,  witness  all, 

Sorted,  the  good  with  good,  the  gay  with  gay, 

Themselves  unseen,  no  need  to  force  a  blush. 

A  Rhodian  wife  and  ignorant  so  long? 

Go  hear  next  play ! " 

I  heard  "  Lusistratd." 
Waves,  said  to  wash  pollution  from  the  world, 
Take  that  plague-memory,  cure  that  pustule  caught 
As,  past  escape,  I  sat  and  saw  the  piece 
By  one  appalled  at  Phaidra's  fate,  —  the  chaste, 
Whom,  because  chaste,  the  wicked  goddess  chained 
To  that  same  serpent  of  unchastity 
She  loathed  most,  and  who,  coiled  so,  died  distraught 
Rather  than  make  submission,  loose  one  limb 
Love-wards,  at  lambency  of  honeyed  tongue. 
Or  torture  of  the  scales  which  scraped  her  snow 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  177 

—  J   say,  ihe  piece  by  him  who  charged  this  piece 

(Because  Euripides  shrank  not  to  teach, 

If  gods  be  strong  and  wicked,  man,  though  weak, 

May  prove  their  match  by  wilHng  to  be  good) 

With  infamies  the  Scythian's  whip  should  cure  — 

"Such  outrage  done  the  public  —  Phaidra  named! 

Such  purpose  to  corrupt  ingenuous  youth, 

Such  insult  cast  on  female  character  ! "  — 

Why,  when  I  saw  that  bestiality  — 

So  beyond  all  brute-beast  imagining, 

That  when,  to  point  the  moral  at  the  close. 

Poor  Salabaccho,  just  to  show  how  fair 

Was  "  Reconciliation,"  stripped  her  charms. 

That  exhibition  simply  bade  us  breathe. 

Seemed  something  healthy  and  commendable 

After  obscenity  grotesqued  so  much 

It  slunk  away  revolted  at  itself. 

Henceforth  I  had  my  answer  when  our  sage 

Pattern-proposing  seniors  pleaded  grave, 

"  You  fail  to  fathom  here  the  deep  design  ! 

All's  acted  in  the  interest  of  truth. 


178  ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY. 

Religion,  and  those  manners  old  and  dear 
Which  made  our  city  great  when  citizens 
Like  Aristeides  and  Miltiades 
Wore  each  a  golden  tettix  in  his  hair." 
What  do  they  wear  now  under  —  Kleophon? 

Well,  for  such  reasons, — I  am  out  of  breath, 

But  loathsomeness  we  needs  must  hurry  past, — 

I  did  not  go  to  see,  nor  then  nor  now, 

The  "Thesmophoriazousai."     But,  since  males 

Choose  to  brave  first,  blame  afterward,  nor  brand 

Without  fair  taste  of  what  they  stigmatize, 

Euthukles  had  not  missed  the  first  display, 

Original  portrait  of  Euripides 

By  "  Virtue  laughingly  reproving  Vice  :  " 

"  Virtue,"  —  the  author,  Aristophanes, 

Who  mixed  an  image  out  of  his  own  depths, 

Ticketed  as  I  tell  you.     Oh,  this  time 

No  more  pretension  to  recondite  worth! 

No  joke  in  aid  of  Peace,  no  demagogue 

Pun-pelleted  from  Pnux,  no  kordax-dance 


ARISTOPHANES^   APOLOGY.  I79 

Overt  helped  cov'ertly  the  Ancient  Faith ! 

All  now  was  muck,  home-produce,  honestman 

The  author's  soul  secreted  to  a  play 

Which  gained  the  prize  that  day  we  heard  the  death- 

I  thought,  "  How  thoroughly  death  alters  things ! 
Where  is  the  wrong  now,  done  our  dead  and  great? 
How  natural  seems  grandeur  in  relief, 
Cliff-base  with  frothy  spites  against  its  calm !  * 

Euthukles  interposed — he  read  my  thought  — 

"O'er  them,  too,  in  a  moment  came  the  change. 

The  crowd's  enthusiastic,  to  a  man: 

Since,  rake  as  such  may  please  the  ordure-heap 

Because  of  certain  sparkles  presumed  ore, 

At  first  flash  of  true  lightning  overhead. 

They  look  up,  nor  resume  their  search  too  soon. 

The  insect-scattering  sign  is  evident. 

And  nowhere  winks  a  fire-fly  rival  now, 

Nor  bustles  any  beetle  of  the  brood 


i8o  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

With  trundled  dung-ball  meant  to  menace  heaven. 

Contrariwise,  the  cry  is,  *  Honor  him  ! ' 

*  A  statue  in  the  theatre  ! '  wants  one  ; 

Another,  '  Bring  the  poet's  body  back. 

Bury  him  in  Peiraios :    o'er  his  tomb 

Let  Alkamenes  carve  the  music-witch, 

The  songstress-seiren,  meed  of  melody : 

Thoukudides  invent  his  epitaph  ! ' 

To-night  the  whole  town  pays  its  tribute  thus." 

Our  tribute  should  not  be  the  same,  my  friend ! 

Statue  ?     Within  our  heart  he  stood,  he  stands ! 

As  for  the  vest  outgrown  now  by  the  forni, 

Low  flesh  that  clothed  high  soul,  —  a  vesture's  fate  — 

Why,  let  it  fade,  mix  with  the  elements 

There  where  it,  falling,  freed  Euripides  ! 

But  for  the  soul  that's  tutelary  now 

Till  time  end,  o'er  the  world  to  teach  and  bless  — 

How  better  hail  its  freedom  than  by  first 

Singing,  we  too,  its  own  song  back  again, 

Up  to  that  face  from  which  flowed  beauty  —  face 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  i3l 

Now  abler  to  see  triumph  and  take  love 
Than  when  it  glorified  Athenai  once  ? 

The  sweet  and  strange  Alkestis,  which  saved  me, 
Secured  me  —  you,  ends  nowise,  to  my  mind, 
In  pardon  of  Admetos.     Hearts  are  fain 
To  follow  cheerful  weary  Herakles 
Striding  away  from  the  huge  gratitude, 
Club  shouldered,  lion-fleece  round  loin  and  flank, 
Bound  on  the  next  new  labor  "height  o'er  height 
Ever  surmounting  —  destiny's  decree  !  " 
Thither  He  helps  us :    that's  the  story's  end  ; 
He  smiling  said  so,  when  I  told  him  mine  — 
My  great  adventure,  how  Alkestis  helped. 
Afterward,  when  the  time  for  parting  fell. 
He  gave  me,  with  two  other  precious  gifts, 
This  third  and  best,  consummating  the  grace, 
"Herakles,"  writ  by  his  own  hand,  each  lire. 

"  If  it  have  worth,  reward  is  still  to  seek. 
Somebody,  I  forget  who,  gained  the  prize 


l82  ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY. 

And  proved  arch-poet :  time  must  show  !  "  he  smiled : 
"  Take  this,  and,  when  the  noise  tires  out,  judge  me  — 
Some  day,  not  slow  to  dawn,  when  somebody  — 
Who  ?  I  forget  —  proves  nobody  at  all !  " 

Is  not  that  day  come  ?    What  if  you  and  I 

Re-sing  the  song,  inaugurate  the  fame? 

We  have  not  waited  to  acquaint  ourselves 

With  song  and  subject:   we  can  prologuize 

How,  at  Eurustheus'  bidding,  —  hate  strained  hard,  — 

Herakles  had  departed,  one  time  more, 

On  his  last  labor,  worst  of  all  the  twelve  ; 

Descended  into  Haides,  thence  to  drag 

The  triple-headed  hound,  which  sun  should  see 

Spite  of  the  god  whose  darkness  whelped  the  Fear. 

Down  went  the  hero,  "  back  —  how  should  he  come  ? " 

So  laughed  King  Lukos,  an  old  enemy, 

Who  in  that  prolonged  absence,  plain  defeat 

Of  the  land's  loved  one,  —  for  he  saved  the  land 

And  for  that  service  wedded  Megara 

Daughter  of  Thebai,  realm  her  child  should  rule,— 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  183 

Saw  his  occasion,  seized  the  tempting  prey, 
The  Heracleiau  House,  defenceless  left, 
Father  and  wife  and  child,  to  trample  out 
Trace  of  its  hearth-fire  :  since  extreme  old  age 
Wakes  pity,  woman's  wrong  wins  championship. 
And  the  child  grows  the  man  and  takes  revenge. 
Hence  see  we  that,  from  out  their  palace-home 
Plunted,  for  last  resource  they  cluster  now 
Couched  on  the  cold  ground,  hapless  supplicants 
About  their  court-yard  altar,  —  Household  Zeus,  — 
Delaying  death  so,  till  deliverance  come  — 
V^ien  did  it  ever? — from  the  deep  and  dark. 
And  thus  breaks  silence  old  Amphitruon's  voice.  .  . 
Say  I  not  true  thus  far,  my  Euthukles? 

Suddenly,  torchlight !  knocking  at  the  door. 

Loud,  quick,  "  Admittance  for  the  revel's  lord  !  " 

Some  unintelligible  Komos-cry  — 

Raw-flesh  red,  no  cap  tipon  his  head, 

Dionusos,  Eacchos,  Phales,  lacchos, 

In  let  him  reel  with  the  kid-skin  at  his  heel. 


184  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Where  it  buries  in  the  spread  of  the  bushy  mirtle-bed ! 
(Our  Rhodian  Jackdaw-song  was  sense  to  that ! ) 
Then  laughter,  outbursts  ruder  and  more  rude, 
Through  which,  with  silver  point,  a  fluting  pierced, 
And  ever  "  Open,  open,  Bacchos  bids  ! " 

But  at  last  —  one  authoritative  word! 

One  name  of  an  immense  significance  : 

For  Euthukles  rose  up,  threw  wide  the  door. 

There  trooped  the  Choros  of  the  Comedy 

Crowned  and  triumphant ;   first,  those  flushed  Fifteej^ 

Men  that  wore  women's  garb,  grotesque  disguise. 

Then  marched  the  Three, — who  played  Mnesilochos, 

Who,  Toxotes,  and  who,  robed  right,  masked  rare. 

Monkeyed  our  Great  and  Dead  to  heart's  content 

That  morning  in  Athenai.     Masks  were  down 

And  robes  doffed  now  ;  the  sole  disguise  was  drink 

Mixing  with  these  —  I  know  not  what  gay  crowd, 

Girl-dancers,  flute-boys,  and  pre-eminent 

A.mong  them,  —  doubtless  draped  with  such  reserve 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  185 

As  stopped  fear  of  the  fifty-drachma  fine 

(Beside  one's  name  on  public  fig-tree  nailed) 

Which  women  pay  who  in  the  streets  walk  bare,  — 

Behold  Elaphion  of  the  Persic  dance  ! 

Who  lately  had  frisked  fawn-foot,  and  the  rest, 

—  All  for  the  Patriot  Cause,  the  Antique  Faith. 

The  Conservation  of  True  Poesy  — 

Could  I  but  penetrate  the  deep  design  ! 

Elaphion,  more  Peiraios-known  as  "  Phaps," 

Tripped  at  the  head  of  the  whole  banquet-band 

Who  came  in  front  now,  as  the  first  fell  back  ; 

And  foremost  —  the  authoritative  voice. 

The  revel-leader,  he  who  gained  the  prize. 

And  got  the  glory  of  the  Archon's  feast  — 

There  stood  in  person  Aristophanes. 

And  no  ignoble  presence !     On  the  bulge 

Of  the  clear  baldness,  —  all  his  head  one  brow, — 

True,  the  veins  swelled,  blue  network,  and  there  surged 

A  red  from  cheek  to  temple,  —  then  retired 

As  if  the  dark-leaved  chaplet  damped  a  flame, — 

Was  never  nursed  by  temperance  or  health 


l86  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

But  huge  the  eyeballs  rolled  black  native  fire, 

Imperiously  triumphant :   nostrils  wide 

Waited  their  incense ;  while  the  pursed  mouth's  pout 

Aggressive,  while  the  beak  supreme  above, 

While  the  head,  face,  nay,  pillared  throat  thrown  back, 

Beard  whitening  under  like  a  vinous  foam. 

These  made  a  glory,  of  such  insolence  — 

I  thought,  —  such  domineering  deity 

Hephaistos  might  have  carved  to  cut  the  brine 

For  his  gay  brother's  prow,  imbrue  that  path 

Which,  purpling,  recognized  the  conqueror. 

Impudent  and  majestic :   drunk,  perhaps, 

But  that's  religion ;   sense  too  plainly  snuffed : 

Still,  sensuality  was  grown  a  rite. 

What  I  had  disbelieved  most,  proved  most  true. 

There  was  a  mind  here,  mind  a-wantoning 

At  ease  of  undisputed  mastery 

Over  the  body's  brood,  those  appetites. 

Oh,  but  he  grasped  them  grandly,  as  the  god 

His  either  struggling  handful,  —  hurtless  snakes 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  187 

Held  deep  down,  strained  hard  off  from  side  and  side ! 

Master)'  his,  theirs  simply  servitude, 

So  well  could  firm  fist  help  intrepid  eye. 

Fawning  and  fulsome,  had  they  licked  and  hissed? 

At  mandate  of  one  muscle,  order  reigned. 

They  had  been  wreathing  much  familiar  now 

About  him  on  his  entry ;  but  a  squeeze 

Choked  down  the  pests  to  place :  their  lord  stood  free 

Forward  he  stepped,  I  rose  and  fronted  him. 

"  Hail,  house,  the  friendly  to  Euripides !  " 

(So  he  began)  "  Hail,  each  inhabitant ! 

You,  lady  ?     What,  the  Rhodian  ?     Form  and  face, 

Victor)''s  self  upsoaring  to  receive 

The   poet?      Right   they  named  you  .  .  .  some   rich 

name, 
Vowel-buds  thomed  about  with  consonants, 
Fragrant,  felicitous,  rose-glow  enriched 
By  the  Isle's  unguent :   some  diminished  end 
In  ion,  Kallistion?  delicater  still, 
Kubelion  or  Melittion,  —  or,  suppose, 


l88  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

(Less  vulgar  love  than  bee  or  violet) 
Phibalion,  for  the  mouth  split  red-fig-wise, 
Korakinidion,  for  the  coal-black  hair, 
Nettarion,  Phabion,  for  the  darlingness  ? 
But  no,  it  was  some  fruit-flower,  Rhoidion  .  .  .  ha, 
We  near  the  balsam-bloom  —  Balaustion  !     Thanks, 
Rhodes  !  Folk  have  called  me  Rhodian,  do  you  know  ? 
Not  fools  so  far !   Because,  if  Helios  wived, 
As  Pindaros  sings  somewhere  prettily. 
Here  blooms  his  offspring,  earth-flesh  with  sun-fire, 
Rhodes'  blood  and  Helios'  gold.     My  phorminx,  boy  ! 
Why  does  the  boy  hang  back  and  baulk  and  ode 
Tiptoe  at  spread  of  wing?     But  like  enough. 
Sunshine  frays  torchlight.      Witness  whom  you  scare, 
Superb  Balaustion !     Look  outside  the  house  ! 
Pho,  you  have  quenched  my  Komos  by  first  frovm, 
Struck  dead  all  joyance :   not  a  fluting  puffs 
From  idle  cheekband !      Ah,  my  Choros  too  ? 
You've  eaten  cuckoo-apple?     Dumb,  you  dogs? 
So  much  good  Thasian  wasted  on  your  throats 
And  out  of  them  not  one  Threttanelo? 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  tSg 

Neblaretai !     Because  this  earth-and-sun 
f 

Product  looks  wormwood  and  all  bitter  herbs? 

Well,  do  I  blench,  though  me  she  hates  the  most 

Of  mortals  ?     By  the  cabbage,  off  they  slink ! 

You,  too,  my  Chrusomelolonthion-Phaps, 

Girl-goldling-beetle-beauty  ?     You,  abashed, 

Who  late,  supremely  unabashable, 

Propped  up  my  play  at  that  important  point 

When  Artamouxia  tricks  the  Toxotes  ? 

Ha,  ha,  —  thank  Hermes  for  the  lucky  throw, — 

We  came  last  comedy  of  the  whole  seven, 

So  went  all  fresh  to  judgment  well-disposed 

For  who  should  fatly  feast  them,  eye  and  ear. 

We  two  between  us  !     What,  you  fail  your  friend  ? 

Away  then,  free  me  of  your  cowardice  ! 

Go,  get  you  the  goat's  breakfast !    Fare  afield, 

Ye  circumcised  of  Egypt,  pigs  to  sow. 

Back  to  the  Priest's  or  forward  to  the  crows. 

So  you  but  rid  me  of  such  company ! 

Once  left  alone,  I  can  protect  myself 

From  statuesque  Balaustion  pedestalled 


IQO  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

On  much  disapprobation  and  mistake ! 
She  dares  not  beat  the  sacred  brow,  beside  f 
Bacchos'  equipment,  ivy  safeguards  well 
As  Phoibos'  bay. 

"  They  take  me  at  my  word  ! 
One  comfort  is,  I  shall  not  want  them  long. 
The  Archon's  cry  creaks,  creaks,  *  Curtail  expense ! ' 
The  war  wants  money,  year  the  twenty-sixth ! 
Cut  down  our  Choros  number,  clip  costume. 
Save  birds'  wings,  beetles'  armor,  spend  the  cash 
In  three-crest  skull-caps,  three  days'  salt-fish-slice, 
Three-banked-ships  for  these  sham-ambassadors. 
And  what  not :   any  cost  but  Comedy's ! 
'  No  Choros '  —  soon  will  follow ;   what  care  I  ? 
Archinos  and  Agurrhios,  scrape  your  flint. 
Flay  your  dead  dog,  and  curry  favor  so  ! 
Choros  in  rags,  with  loss  of   leather  next, 
We  lose  the  boy's  vote,  lose  the  song  and  dance, 
Lose  my  Elaphion !     Still,  the  actor  stays. 
Save  but  my  acting,  and  the  baldhead  bard 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  191 

Kudathenaian  and  Pandionid, 

Son  of  Philippos,  Aristophanes 

Surmounts  his  rivals  now  as  heretofore, 

Though  stinted  to  mere  sober  prosy  verse  — 

*  Manners  and  men,'  so  squeamish  gets  the  world  ! 

No  more  '  step  forward,  strip  for  anapaests  ! ' 

No  calling  naughty  people  by  their  names, 

No  tickling  audience  into  gratitude 

With  chickpease,  barleygroats  and  nuts  and  plums, 

No  setting  Salabaccho"  ... 

As  I  turned  — 

"True,  lady,  I  am  tolerably  drunk: 

The  proper  inspiration  !     Otherwise, — 

Phrunichos,  Choirilos  !  —  had  Aischulos 

So  foiled  you  at  the  goat-song?     Drink's  a  god. 

How  else  did  that  old  doating  driveller 

Kratinos  foil  me,  match  my  masterpiece 

The  'Clouds'?     I  swallowed  cloud-distilment  —  dew 

Undimmed  by  any  grape-blush,  knit  my  brow 


192  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

And  gnawed  my  style  and  laughed  my  learnedest; 
While  he  worked  at  his  'Willow-wicker-flask,' 
Swigging  at  that  same  flask  by  which  he  swore, 
Till,  sing  and  empty,  sing  and  fill  again. 
Somehow  result  was  —  what  it  should  not  be 
Next  time,  I  promised  him  and  kept  my  word! 
Hence,  brimful  now  of  Thasian  .  .  .  I'll  be  bound, 
Mendesian,  merely :     triumph-night,  you  know, 
The  High  Priest  entertains  the  conqueror, 
And,  since  war  worsens  all  things,  stingily 
The  rascal  starves  whom  he  is  bound  to  stuff, 
Choros  and  actors  and  their  lord  and  king 
The  poet ;     supper,  still  he  needs  must  spread  — 
And  this  time  all  was  conscientious  fare  : 
He  knew  his  man,  his  match,  his  master  —  made 
Amends,     spared     neither     fish,     flesh,     fowl     nor 

wine  : 
So  merriment  increased,  I  promise  you, 
Till — something  happened." 

Here  he  strangely  paused 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  193 

"  After  that,  — •  well,  it  either  was  the  cup 
To  the  Good  Genius,  our  concluding  pledge, 
That  wrought  me  mischief,  decently  unmixed, — 
Or,  what  if,  when  that  happened,  need  arose 
Of  new  libation?     Did  you  only  know 
What  happened  !     Little  wonder  I  am  drunk." 

Euthukles,  o'er  the  boat-side,  quick,  what  change, 

Watch,  in  the  water  !     But  a  second  since. 

It  laughed  a  ripply  spread  of  sun  and  sea, 

Ray  fused  with  wave,  to  never  disunite. 

Now,  sudden  all  the  surface,  hard  and  black. 

Lies  a  quenched  light,  dead  motion :  what  the  cause  ? 

Look  up  and  lo,  the  menace  of  a  cloud 

Has  solemnized  the  sparkling,  spoiled  the  sport! 

Just  so,  some  overshadow,  some  new  care 

Stopped  all  the  mirth  and  mocking  on  his  face, 

And  left  there  only  such  a  dark  surmise 

—  No  wonder  if  the  revel  disappeared, 

So  did  his  face  shed  silence  every  side  ! 

I  recognized  a  new  man  fronting  me. 


194  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

•'  So ! "  he  smiled,  piercing  to  my  thought  at  once, 

"You  see  myself?     Balaustion's  fixed  regard 

Can  strip  the  proper  Aristophanes 

Of  what  our  sophists,  in  their  jargon,  style 

His  accidents  ?     My  soul  sped  forth  but  now 

To  meet  your  hostile  survey, —  soul  unseen, 

Yet  veritably  cinct  for  soul-defence 

With  satyr  sportive  quips,  cranks,  boss  and  spike. 

Just  as  my  visible  body  paced  the  street, 

Environed  by  a  boon  companionship 

Your  apparition  also  puts  to  flight. 

Well,  what  care  I  if,  unaccoutred  twice, 

I  front  my  foe  —  no  comicality 

Round  soul,  and  body-guard  in  banishment? 

Thank  your  eyes'  searching,  undisguised  I  stand : 

The  merest  female  child  may  question  me. 

Spare  not,  speak  bold,  Balaustion ! " 

I  did  speak 

"Bold  speech  be  —  welcome  to  this  honored  hearth. 
Good  Genius  1     Glory  of  the  poet,  glow 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  195 

O'  the  humorist  who  castigates  his  kind, 
Suave  summer-lightning  lambency  which  plays 
On  stag-homed  tree,  misshapen  crag  askew, 
Then  vanishes  with  unvindictive  smile 
After  a  moment's  laying  black  earth  bare. 
Splendor  of  wit  that  springs  a  thunderball  — 
Satire  —  to  bum  and  purify  the  world. 
True  aim,  fair  purpose :  just  wit  justly  strikes 
Injustice, —  right,  as  rightly  quells  the  wrong. 
Finds  out  in  knaves',  fools',  cowards'  armory 
The  tricky  tinselled  place  fire  flashes  through, 
No  damage  else,  sagacious  of  true  ore ; 
Wit,  learned  in  the  laurel,  leaves  each  wreath 
O'er  lyric  shell  or  tragic  barbiton, — 
Though  alien  gauds  be  singed,  —  undesecrate, 
The  genuine  solace  of  the  sacred  brow. 
Ay,  and  how  pulses  flame  a  patriot-star 
Steadfast  athwart  our  country's  night  of  things. 
To  beacon,  would  she  trust  no  meteor-blaze, 
Athenai  from  the  rock  she  steers  for  straight! 
O  light,  light,  light,  I  hail  light  everywhere. 


196  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

No  matter  for  the  murk  that  was,  —  perchance, 
That  will  be,  —  certes,  never  should  have  been 
Such  orb's  associate ! 

"  Aristophanes  ! 
'The  merest  female  child  may  question  you? ' 
Once,  in  my  Rhodes,  a  portent  of  the  wave 
Appalled  our  coast :  for  many  a  darkened  day, 
Intolerable  mystery  and  fear. 

Who  snatched  a  furtive  glance  through  crannied  peak^ 
Could  but  report  of  snake-scale,  lizard-limb, — 
So  swam  what,  making  whirlpools  as  it  went, 
Madded  the  brine  with  wrath  or  monstrous  sport. 
'  'Tis  Tuphon,  loose,  unmanacled  from  mount,' 
Declared  the  priests,  'no  way  appeasable 
Unless  perchance  by  virgin-sacrifice  ! ' 
Thus  grew  the  terror  and  o'erhung  the  doom  — 
Until  one  eve  a  certain  female-child 
Strayed  in  safe  ignorance  to  seacoast  edge. 
And  there  sate  down  and  sang  to  please  herself. 
When  all  at  once,  large-looming  from  his  wave, 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  197 

Out  leaned,  chin  hand-propped,  pensive  on  the  ledge, 

A  sea-worn  face,  sad  as  mortality, 

Divine  with  yearning  after  fellowship. 

He  rose  but  breast-high.     So  much  god  she  saw ; 

So  much  she  sees  now,  and  does  reverence !  " 

Ah,  but  there  followed  tail-splash,  frisk  of  fin ! 
Let  cloud  pass,  the  sea's  ready  laugh  outbreaks. 
No  very  godlike  trace  retained  the  mouth 
Which  mocked  with  — 

"  So,  He  taught  you  tragedy ! 
I  always  asked,  '  Why  may  not  women  act  ? ' 
Nay,  wear  the  comic  visor  just  as  well; 
Or,  better,  quite  cast  off  the  face-disguise 
And  voice-distortion,  simply  look  and  speak. 
Real  women  playing  women  as  men — men! 
I  shall  not  wonder  if  things  come  to  that. 
Some  day  when  I  am  distant  far  enough. 
Do  you  conceive  the  quite  new  Comedy 
When  laws  allow?  laws  only  let  girls  dance, 
Pipe,  posture,  —  above  all,  Elaphionize, 


198  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Provided  they  keep  decent  —  that  is,  dumb. 
Ay,  and,  conceiving,  I  would  execute. 
Had  I  but  two  lives :   one  were  overworked ! 
How  penetrate  incrusted  prejudice, 
Pierce  ignorance  three  generations  thick 
Since  first  Sousarion  crossed  our  boundary  ? 
He  battered  with  a  big  Megaric  stone  ; 
Chionides  felled  oak  and  rough-hewed  thence 
This  club  I  wield  now,  having  spent  my  life 
In  planing  knobs  and  sticking  studs  to  shine  ; 
Somebody  else  must  try  mere  polished  steel ! " 

Emboldened  by  the  sober  mood's  return, 

"  Meanwhile,"  said  I,  "  since  planed  and  studded  club 

Once  more  has  pashed  competitors  to  dust. 

And  poet  proves  triumphant  with  that  play, 

Euthukles  found  last  year  unfortunate, — 

Does    triumph    spring    from    smoothness    still    more 

smoothed, 
Fresh  studs  sown  thick  and  threefold  ?   In  plain  words^ 
Have  you  exchanged  brute-blows,  which  teach  the  brute 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  199 

Man  may  surpass  him  in  brutality, 

For  human  fighting,  or  true  god-like  force    - 

"Which  breathes  persuasion  nor  needs  fight  at  all? 

Have  you  essayed  attacking  ignorance. 

Convicting  folly,  by  their  opposites, 

Knowledge  and  wisdom?  not  by  yours  for  ours, 

Fresh  ignorance  and  folly,  new  for  old, 

Greater  for  less,  your  crime  for  our  mistake  ! 

If  so  success  at  last  have  crowned  desert, 

Bringing  surprise  (dashed  haply  by  concern 

At  late  discovery  —  such  wild  waste  of  strength 

(And    what    strength !)    went    so    long    to    keep    in 

vogue 
Such  warfare  (and  what  warfare !)  shamed  away. 
Made  obsolete  forever,  as  foe  fell 
By  the  first  arrow  native  to  the  orb, 
First  onslaught  worthy  Aristophanes)  — 
Was  this  conviction's  entry  that  same  strange 
Something  that  happened  '  to  confound  your  feast  ? " 

"  Ah,  did  he  witness  then  my  play  that  failed, 


200  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY 

First  '  Thesmophoriazousai  ? '     Well  and  good  I 
But  did  he  also  see, — your  Euthukles, — 
My  *  Grasshoppers '  which  followed  and  failed  too, 
Three  months  since,  at  the  *  Little-in-the-Fields  '  ? " 

"To  say  that  he  did  see  that  First  —  should  say 
He  never  cared  to  see  its  following." 

"There  happens  to  be  reason  why  I  wrote 

First  play  and  second  also.     Ask  the  cause  ! 

Fit  answer,  authorizing  either  act, 

I  warrant  you  receive  ere  talk  be  done. 

But  here's  the  point :   as  Euthukles  made  vow 

Never  again  to  taste  my  quality, 

So  I  was  minded  next  experiment 

Should  tickle  palate  —  yea,  of  Euthukles  ! 

Not  by  such  utter  change,  such  absolute 

A  topsyturvy  of  stage-habitude 

As  you  and  he  want,  —  Comedy  built  fresh. 

By  novel  brick  and  mortar,  base  to  roof,  — 

No,  for  I  stand  too  near  and  look  too  close  I 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  20I 

Pleasure  and  pastime  yours,  spectators  brave, 
Should  I  turn  art's  fixed  fabric  upside  down ! 
Little  you  guess  how  such  tough  work  tasks  soul ! 
Not  overtasks,  though :  give  fit  strength  fair  play, 
And  strength's  a  demiourgos ! ' 

"  Art  renewed  ? 
Ay,  in  some  closet  where  strength  shuts  out  —  first 
The  friendly  faces,  sympathetic  cheer: 
'  More  of  the  old  provision,  none  supplies 
So  bounteously  as  thou,  —  oiu^  love,  our  pride. 
Our  author  of  the  many  a  perfect  piece  ! 
Stick  to  that  standard,  change  were  decadence ! ' 
Next,  the  unfriendly :  *  This  time,  strain  will  tire. 
He's  fresh,  Ameipsias  thy  antagonist ! ' 
—  Or  better,  in  some  Salaminian  cave 
Where  sky  and  sea  and  solitude  make  earth 
And  man  and  noise  one  insignificance. 
Let  strength  propose  itself, — behind  the  world, — 
Sole  prize  worth  winning,  work  that  satisfies 
Strength  it  has  dared  and  done  strength's  uttermost " 
After  which,  —  clap-to  closet  and  quit  cave,  — 


202  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Strength  may  conclude  in  Archelaos'  court, 
And  yet  esteem  the  silken  company 
So  much  sky-scud,  sea-froth,  earth-thistledown. 
For  aught  their  praise  or  blame  should  joy  or  grieve  • 
May  lead  the  still  life,  ply  the  wordless  task : 
Then  only,  when  seems  need  to  move  or  speak, 
Moving — for  due  respect,  since  statesmen  pass, 
(Strength,  in  the  closet,  watched  how  spiders  spin !) 
Speaking  —  when  fashion  shows  intelligence, 
(Strength,  in  the  cave,  had  whistled  to  the  gulls !) 
Despise  the  world  and  reverence  yourself, — 
Why,  you  may  unmake  things  and  remake  things, 
And  throw  behind  you,  unconcerned  enough. 
What's  made   or   marred :    *  you   teach   men,  are  not 

taught ! ' 
So  marches  off  the  stage  Euripides ! 

"No  such  thin  fare,  feeds  flesh  and  blood  like  mine, 
No  such  faint  fume  the  Aristophanic  soul. 
No  such  seclusion,  closet,  cave  or  court. 
Suits  either  like  our  lostephanos 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  203 

Worth  making  happy  what  coarse  way  she  will  — 

The  happy-maker,  when  the  cries  increase 

About  the  favorite  !    *  Aristophanes ! 

More  grist  to  mill,  here's  Kleophon  to  grind  ! 

He's  for  refusing  peace,  though  Spartd  cede 

Even  Dekeleia  !     Here's  Kleonumos 

Declaring  —  if  he  threw  away  his  shield, 

He'll  thrash  you  till  you  lay  your  lyre  aside ! 

Orestes  bids  mind  where  you  walk  of  nights: 

He  wants  your  cloak  as  you  his  cudgelling. 

Here's,  finally,  Melanthios  fat  with  fish, 

The  gormandizer-spendthrift-dramatist ! 

So,  bustle  !     Pounce  on  opportunity ! 

Let  fun  a-screaming  in  Parabasis, 

Find  food  for  folk  agape  at  either  end, 

Mad  for  amusement!     Times  grow  better  too. 

And  should  they  worsen,  why,  who  laughs,  forgets. 

In  no  case,  venture  boy-experiments ! 

Old  wine's  the  wine :  new  poetry  drinks  raw : 

Two  plays  a  season  is  your  pledge,  beside  ; 

So,  give  us  '  Wasps '  again,  grown  hornets  now  ! " 


204  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Then  he  changed. 

"Do  you  so  detect  in  me  — 
Brow-bald,  chin-bearded,  me,  curved  cheek,  carved  lip, 
Or  where  soul  sits  and  reigns  in  either  eye  — 
What  suits  the  —  stigma,  I  say,  —  style  say  you, 
Of  *  Wine-lees-poet  ? '     Bravest  of  buffoons, 
Less  blunt  than  Telekleides,  less  obscene 
Than  Murtilos,  Hermippos:   quite  a  match 
In  elegance  for  Eupolis  himself, 
Yet  pungent  as  Kratinos  at  his  best? 
Graced  with  traditional  immunity 
Ever  since,  much  about  my  grandsire's  time. 
Some  funny  village-man  in  Megara, 
Lout-lord  and  clown-king,  used  a  privilege. 
As  due  religious  drinking-bouts  came  round. 
To  daub  his  phiz,  —  no,  that  was  afterward, — 
He  merely  mounted  cart  with  mates  of  choice 
And  traversed  country,  taking  house  by  house, 
At  night, — because  of  danger  in  the  freak, — 
Then  holloaed,  '  Skin-flint  starves  his  laborers  ! 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  205 

Clinch-fist  stows  figs  away,  cheats  government! 

Such  an  one  likes  to  kiss  his  neighbor's  wife, 

And  beat  his  own  ;  while  such  another  .  .  .  Boh ! ' 

Soon  came  the  broad  day,  circumstantial  tale, 

Dancing  and  verse,  and  there's  our  Comedy, 

There's  Mullos,  there's  Euetes,  there's  the  stock 

I  shall  be  proud  to  graft  my  powers  upon! 

Protected?     Punished  quite  as  certainly 

When  Archons  pleased  to  lay  down  each  his  law,  — 

Your  Morucheides-Surakosios  sort,  — 

Each  season,  '  No  more  naming  citizens. 

Only  abuse  the  vice,  the  vicious  spare  ! 

Observe,  henceforth  no  Areopagite 

Demean  his  rank  by  writing  Comedy ! ' 

(They  one  and  all  could  write  the  '  Clouds  '  of  course^ 

*  Needs  must  we  nick  expenditure,  allow 

Comedy  half  a  chores,  supper  —  none. 

Times  being  hard,  while  applicants  increase 

For,  what  costs  cash,  the  Tragic  Trilogy.' 

Lofty  Tragedians  !     How  they  lounge  aloof 

Each  with  his  Triad,  three  plays  to  my  one, 


206  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Not  counting  the  contemptuous  fourth,  the  frank 

Concession  to  mere  mortal  levity, 

Satyric  pittance  tossed  our  beggar-world ! 

Your  proud  Euripides  from  first  to  last 

Doled  out  some  five  such,  never  deigned  us  more ! 

And  these — what  curds  and  whey  for  marrowy  wine  I 

That  same  Alkestis  you  so  rave  about 

Passed  muster  with  him  for  a  Satyr-play, 

The  prig !  —  why  trifle  time  with  toys  and  skits 

When  he  could  stuff  four  ragbags  sausage-wise 

With  sophistry,  with  bookish  odds  and  ends, 

Sokrates,  meteors,  moonshine,  '  Life's  not  Life,' 

'The  tongue  swore,  but  unsworn  the  mind  remains,' 

And  fifty  such  concoctions,  crab-tree-fruit 

Digested  while,  head  low  and  heels  in  heaven. 

He  lay,  let  Comics  laugh — for  privilege  1 

Looked  puzzled  on,  or  pityingly  off, 

But  never  dreamed  of  paying  gibe  by  jeer. 

Buffet  by  blow:   plenty  of  proverb-pokes 

At  vice  and  folly,  wicked  kings,  mad  mobs  1 

No  sign  of  wincing  at  my  Comic  lash. 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  267 

No  protest  against  infamous  abuse, 

Malignant  censure,  —  nought  to  prove  I  scourged 

With  tougher  thong  than  leek-and-onion-plait ! 

If  ever  he  glanced  gloom,  aggrieved  at  all. 

The  aggriever  must  be  —  Aischulos  perhaps  : 

Or  Sophokles  he'd  take  exception  to. 

—  Do  you  detect  in  me  —  in  me,  I  ask, 

The  man  like  to  accept  this  measurement 

Of  faculty,  contentedly  sit  classed 

Mere  Comic  Poet  —  since  I  wrote  *  The  Birds'  ? " 

I  thought  there  might  lurk  truth  in  jest's  disguise. 

"  Thanks ! "  he  resumed,  so  quick  to  construe  smile 
"  I  answered  —  in  my  mind  —  these  gapers  thus  ; 
Since  old  wine's  ripe  and  new  verse  raw,  you  judge  — 
What  if  I  vary  vintage-mode  and  mix 
Blossom  with  must,  give  nosegay  to  the  brew. 
Fining,  refining,  gently,  surely,  till 
The  educated  taste  turn  unawares 
From  customary  dregs  to  draught  divine  ? 


2o8  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Then  answered  —  with  my  lips :  More  *  Wasps  '  you 

want  ? 
Come  next  year  and  I  give  you  '  Grasshoppers ' ! 
And  'Grasshoppers'  I  gave  them,  —  last  month's  play. 
They  formed  the  Choros.     Alkibiades, 
No  longer  Triphales  but  Trilophos, 
(Whom  I  call  Darling-of-the-Summertime, 
Bom  to  be  nothing  else  but  beautiful 
And  brave,  to  eat,  drink,  love  his  life  away) 
Persuades  the  Tettix  (our  Autochthon-brood, 
That  sip  the  dew  and  sing  on  olive-branch 
Above  the  ant-and-emmet  populace) 
To  summon  all  who  meadow,  hill  and  dale 
Inhabit,  bee,  wasp,  woodlouse,  dragonfly. 
To  band  themselves  against  red  nipper-nose 
Stagbeetle,  huge  Taiigetan  (you  guess  — 
Spartd)  Athenai  needs  must  battle  with, 
Because  her  sons  are  grown  effeminate 
To  that  degree  —  so  morbifies  their  flesh 
The  poison-drama  of  Euripides, 
Morals  and  music  —  there's  no  antidote 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  209 

Occurs  save  warfare  which  inspirits  blood, 
And  brings  us  back  perchance  the  blessed  time 
When  (Chores  takes  up  tale)  our  commonalty 
Firm  in  primseval  virtue,  antique  faith, 
Ere  earwig-sophist  plagued  or  pismire  sage, 
Cockered  no  noddle  up  with  A,  b,  g, 
Book-learning,  logic-chopping,  and  the  moon, 
But  just  employed  their  brains  on  ^  Ruppapai, 
Row,  boys,  munch  barley-bread,  and  take  your  ease  — 
Mindful,  however,  of  the  tier  beneath  ! ' 
Ah,  golden  epoch  !  while  the  nobler  sort 
(Such  needs  must  study,  no  contesting  that!) 
Wore  no  long  curls,  but  used  to  crop  their  hair, 
Gathered  the  tunic  well  about  the  ham. 
Remembering  'twas  soft  sand  they  used  for  seat 
At  school-time,  while  —  mark  this  — the  lesson  long, 
No  learner  ever  dared  to  cross  his  legs  1 
Then,  if  you  bade  him  take  the  myrtle-bough 
And  sing  for  supper  —  'twas  some  grave  romaunt 
How  man  of  Mitulen^,  wondrous  wise, 
jumped  into  hedge,  by  mortals  quickset  calh  ' 


2IO  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

And  there  anticipating  Oidipous, 

Scratched  out  his  eyes  and  scratched  them  in  again. 
None  of  your  Phaidras,  Augds,  Kanakas, 
To  mincing  music,  turn,  trill,  tweedle-trash. 
Whence  comes  that  Marathon  is  obsolete  ! 
Next,  my  Antistroph^  was  —  praise  of  Peace : 
Ah,  could  our  people  know  what  Peace  implies  ! 
Home  to  the  farm  and  furrow!     Grub  one's  vine. 
Romp  with  one's  Thratta,  pretty  serving-girl, 
When  wifie's  busy  bathing !     Eat  and  drink. 
And  drink  and  eat,  what  else  is  good  in  life? 
Slice  hare,  toss  pancake,  gayly  gurgle  down 
The  Thasian  grape  in  celebration  due 
Of  Bacchos  !     Welcome,  dear  domestic  rite, 
When  wife  and  sons  and  daughters,  Thratta  too, 
Pour  peasoup  as  we  chant  delectably 
In  Bacchos  reels,  his  tunic  at  his  heels  I 
Enough,  you  comprehend,  —  I  do  at  least ! 
Then,  —  be  but  patient,  —  the  Parabasis  ! 
Pray !     For  in  that  I  also  pushed  reform. 
None  of  the  self-laudation,  vulgar  brag, 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  211 

Vainglorious  rivals  cultivate  so  much ! 

No  !     If  some  merest  word  in  Art's  defence 

Justice  demanded  of  me,  —  never  fear ! 

Claim  was  preferred,  but  dignifiedly. 

A  cricket  asked  a  locust  (winged,  you  know) 

What  he  had  seen  most  rare  in  foreign  parts? 

'  I  have  flown   far,'  chirped  he,  '  North,  East,  South 

West, 
And  nowhere  heard  of  poet  worth  a  fig 
If  matched  with  Bald-head  here,  Aigina's  boast, 
Who  in  this  play  bids  rivalry  despair 
Past,  present  and  to  come,  so  marvellous 
His  Tragic,  Comic,  Lyric  excellence ! 
Whereof  the  fit  reward  were  (not  to  speak 
Of  dinner  every  day  at  public  cost 
I'  the  Prutaneion)  supper  with  yourselves, 
My  Public,  best  dish  offered  bravest  bard ! ' 
No  more !   no  sort  of  sin  against  good  taste  I 
Then,  satire,  —  Oh,  a  plain  necessity ! 
But  I  won't  tell  you :  for  —  could  I  dispense 
With  one  more  gird  at  old  Ariphrades? 


212  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

How  scorpion-like  he  feeds  on  human  flesh  ^ 
Ever  finds  out  some  novel  infamy 
Unutterable,  inconceivable, 
Which  all  the  greater  need  was  to  describe 
Minutely,  each  tail-twist  at  ink-shed  time  .  .  . 
Now,  what's  your  gesture  caused  by  ?  What  you  loathe, 
Don't  I  loathe  doubly,  else  why  take  such  pains 
To  tell  it  you  ?     But  keep  your  prejudice ! 
My  audience  justified  you  !     Housebreakers ! 
This  pattern-purity  was  played  and  failed 
Last  Rural  Dionusia  —  failed  !   for  why  ? 
Ameipsias  followed  with  the  genuine  stuff. 
He  had  been  mindful  to  engage  the  Four — 
Karkinos  and  his  dwarf-crab-family  — 
Father  and  sons,  they  whirled  like  spinning-tops, 
Chores  gigantically  poked  his  fun, 
•  The  boy's  frank  laugh  relaxed  the  seniors'  brow, 
The  skies  re-echoed  victory's  acclaim, 
Ameipsias  gained  his  due,  I  got  my  dose 
Of  wisdom  for  the  future.     Purity? 
No  more  of  that  next  month,  Athenai  mine  I 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  213 

Contrive  new  cut  of  robe  who  will,  —  I  patch 

The  old  exomis,  add  no  purple  sleeve! 

The  Thesmophoriazousai,  smartened  up 

With  certain  plaits,  shall  please,  I  promise  you ! 

"Yes,  I  took  up  the  play  that  failed  last  year, 

And  re-arranged  things ;   threw  adroitly  in,  — 

No  Parachoregema,  —  men  to  match 

My  women  there  already;    and  when  these 

(I  had  a  hit  at  Aristullos  here, 

His  plan  how  womankind  should  rule  the  roast) 

Drove  men  to  plough  —  *  A-field,  ye  cribbed  of  cape  ! ' 

Men  showed  themselves  exempt  from  service  straight 

Stupendously,  till  all  the  boys  cried,  *  Brave ! ' 

Then  for  the  elders,  I  bethought  me  too, 

Improved  upon  Mnesilochos'  release 

From  the  old  bowman,  board  and  binding-strap: 

I  made  his  son-in-law  Euripides 

Engage  to  put  both  shrewish  wives  away, 

'Gravity,'  one,  the  other,  'Sophist-lore,' 

And  mate  with  the  Bald  Bard's  hetairai  twain  — 


214  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

*  Goodhumor '  and  '  Indulgence  : '   on  they  tripped, 

Murrhind,  Akalanthis,  — '  beautiful 

Their  whole  belongings '  —  crowd  joined  chorps  there ' 

And  while  the  Toxotes  wound  up  his  part 

By  shower  of  nuts  and  sweetmeats  on  the  mob, 

The  woman-choros  celebrated  New 

Kalligeneia,  the  frank  last-day  rite. 

Brief,  I  was  chairdd  and  caressed  and  crowned, 

And  the  whole  theatre  broke  out  a-roar, 

Echoed  my  admonition  —  choros-cap  — 

Rivals  of  mine,  your  hands  to  your  faces ! 

Summon  no  more  the  Muses,  the  Graces, 

Since  here  by  my  side  they  have  chosen  their  places  I 

And  so  we  all  flocked  merrily  to  feast,  — 

I,  my  choragos,  choros,  actors,  mutes 

And  flutes  aforesaid,  friends  in  crowd,  no  fear, 

At  the  Priest's  supper;   and  hilarity 

Grew  none  the  less  that,  early  in  the  piece, 

Ran  a  report,  from  row  to  row  close-packed, 

Of  messenger's  arrival  at  the  Port 

With  weighty  tidings,  *0f  Lusandros'  flight,* 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  215 

Opined  one  ;    '  That  Euboia  penitent 

Sends  the  Confederation  fifty  ships,' 

Preferred  another;   while  'The  Great  King's  Eye 

Has  brought  a  present  for  Elaphion  here, 

That  rarest  peacock  Kompolakuthes ! ' 

Such  was  the  supposition  of  a  third. 

'  No  matter  what  the  news,'  friend  Strattis  laughed, 

*It  won't  be  worse  for  waiting:   while  each  click 

Of  the  klepsudra  sets  a-shaking  grave 

Resentment  in  our  shark's-head,  boiled  and  spoiled 

By  this  time :   dished  in  Sphettian  vinegar, 

Silphion  and  honey,  served  with  cocks'-brain-sauce  ! 

So,  swift  to  supper,  Poet !     No  mistake. 

This  play;    nor,  like  the  unflavored  'Grasshoppers,' 

Salt  without  thyme ! '     Right  merrily  we  supped. 

Till — something  happened. 

"Out  it  shall,  at  last  I 

"  Mirth  drew  to  ending,  for  the  cup  was  crowned 
To  the  Triumphant !     '  Kleonclapper  erst, 
Now,  Plier  of  a  scourge  Euripides 


2i6  ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY. 

Fairly  turns  tail  from,  flying  Attik^ 

For  Makedonia's  rocks  and  frosts  and  bears, 

Where,  furry  grown,  he  growls  to  match  the  squeak 

Of  girl-voiced,  crocus-vested  Agathon ! 

Ha  ha,  he  he  ! '     When  suddenly  a  knock  — 

Sharp,  solitary,  cold,  authoritative. 

"'Babaiaxf  Sokrates  a-passing  by, 

A-peering  in,  for  Aristullos'  sake, 

To  put  a  question  touching  Comic  Law  ? ' 

"  No  !     Enters  an  old  pale-swathed  majesty. 
Makes  slow  mute  passage  through  two  ranks  as  mute, 
(Strattis  stood  up  with  all  the  rest,  the  sneak  !) 
Gray  brow  still  bent  on  ground,  upraised  at  length 
When,  our  Priest  reached,  full-front  the  vision  paused. 

"  *  Priest ! '  —  the  deep  tone  succeeded  the  fixed  gaze  — 
'  Thou  carest  that  thy  god  have  spectacle 
Decent  and  seemly;  wherefore,  I  announce 
That,  since  Euripides  is  dead  to-day, 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  217 

My  Chores,  at  the  Greater  Feast,  next  month. 
Shall,  clothed  in  black,  appear  ungarlanded  ' '    . 

"Then  the  gray  brow  sank  low,  and  Sophokles 
Re-swathed  him,  sweeping  doorward:  mutely  passed 
'Twixt  rows  as  mute,  to  mingle  possibly 
With  certain  gods  who  convoy  age  to  port ; 
And  night  resumed  him. 

"When  our  stupor  broke, 
Chirpings  took  courage,  and  grew  audible. 

"  *  Dead  —  so  one  speaks  now  of  Euripides ! ' 

'Ungarlanded  his  Choros,  did  he  say? 

I  guess  the  reason :    in  extreme  old  age 

No  doubt  such  have  the  gods  for  visitants. 

Why  did  he  dedicate  to  Herakles 

An  altar  else,  but  that  the  god,  turned  Judge, 

Told  him  in  dream  who  took  the  crown  of  gold? 

He  who  restored  Akropolis  the  theft. 

Himself  may  feel  perhaps  a  timely  twinge 

A.t  thought  of  certain  other  crowns  he  filched 


2i8  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

From  —  who  now  visits  Herakles  the  Judge. 

Instance  "  Medeia !  "  that  play  yielded  palm 

To  Sophokles  ;  and  he  again  —  to  whom  ? 

Euphorion  !     Why  ?     Ask  Herakles  the  Judge  ! ' 

Ungarlanded,  just  means  —  economy  ! 

Suppress  robes,  chaplets,  every  thing  suppress 

Except  the  poet's  present!     An  old  tale 

Put  capitally  by  Trugaios  —  eh  ? 

*  News  from  the  world  of  transformation  strange  I 

How  Sophokles  is  grown  Simonides, 

And,  —  aged,  rotten,  —  all  the  same,  for  greed 

Would  venture  on  a  hurdle  out  to  sea ! ' 

So  jokes  Philonides.     Kallistratos 

Retorts,  *  Mistake  !     Instead  of  stinginess  — 

The  fact  is,  in  extreme  decrepitude, 

He  has  discarded  poet  and  turned  priest, 

Priest  of  Half-Hero  Alkon:   visited 

In  his  own  house  too   by  Asklepios'  self, 

So  he  avers.     Meanwhile,  his  own  estate 

Lies  fallow ;  lophon's  the   manager,  — 

Nay,  touches  up  a  play,  brings  out  the  same. 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  2ig 

Asserts  true  sonship.     See  to  what  you  sink 
After  your  dozen-dozen  prodigies ! 
Looking  so  old  —  Euripides  seems  young, 
Born  ten  years  later.' 

"  '  Just  his  tricky  style  ! 
Since,  stealing  first  away,  he  wins  first  word 
Out  of  good-natured  rival  Sophokles, 
Procures  himself  no  bad  paneg}*ric. 
Had  fate  willed  otherwise,  himself  were  taxed 
To  pay  survivor's-tribute,  —  harder  squeezed 
From  anybody  beaten  first  to  last, 
Than  one  who,  steadily  a  conqueror, 
Finds  that  his  magnanimity  is  tasked 
To  merely  make  pretence  and  —  beat  itself  1 ' 

"  So  chirped  the  feasters  though  suppressedly. 

'But  I  —  what  else  do  you  suppose?  —  had  pierced 
Quite    through  friends'  outside-straining,  foes'   mock- 
praise, 


220  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

And  reached  conviction  hearted  under  all. 
Death's  rapid  line  had  closed  a  life's  account 
And  cut  off,   left  unalterably  clear 
The  summed-up  value   of  Euripides. 

"  Well,  it  might  be  the  Thasian  !     Certainly 
There  sang  suggestive  music  in  my  ears; 
And,  through  —  what  sophists  style  —  the  wall  cf  sense 
My  eyes  pierced :  death  seemed  life  and  life  seeemed 

death, 
Envisaged  that  way,  now,  which  I,  before, 
Conceived  was  just  a  moon-struck  mood.     Quite  plain 
There  re-insisted,  —  ay,  each  prim  stiff  phrase 
Of  each  old  play,  my  still-new  laughing-stock. 
Had  meaning,  well  worth  poet's  pains  to  state. 
Should  life  prove  half  true  life's  term  —  death,  the  rest. 
As  for  the  other  question,  late  so  large 
Now  all  at  once  so  little,  —  he  or  I, 
Which  better  comprehended  playwright  craft,  — 
There,  too,  old  admonition  took  fresh  point. 
As  clear  recurred  our  last  word-interchange 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  221 

Two  years  since,  when  I  tried  with  '  Ploutos.'    'Vain  !' 
Saluted  me  the  cold  grave-bearded  age  — 
'  Vain,  this  late  trial,  Aristophanes  ! 
None  baulks  the  genius  with  impunity  ! 
You  know  what  kind's  the  nobler,  what  makes  grave 
Or  what   makes  grin ;  there's  yet  a  nobler  still, 
Possibly,  —  what  makes  wise,  not  grave,  —  and  glad, 
Not  grinning :  whereby  laughter  joins  with  tears, 
Tragic  and  Comic   Poet  prove  one  power, 
And  Aristophanes  becomes  our  Fourth  — 
Nay,  greatest !     Never  needs  the  Art  stand  still. 
But  those  Art  leans  on  lag,  and   none  like  you. 
Her  strongest  of  supports,  whose  step  aside 
Undoes  the  march :  defection  checks  advance 
Too  late  adventured  !     See  the  "  Ploutos  "  here  ! 
This  step  decides  your  foot  from  old  to  new  — 
Proves  you  relinquish  song  and  dance  and  jest, 
Discard  the  beast,  and,  rising  from  all-fours, 
Fain  would  paint,  manlike,  actual  human  life, 
Make  veritable  men  think,  say  and  do. 
Here's  the  conception  :   which  to  execute, 


222  ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY. 

Where's  force  ?  Spent !  Ere  the  race  began,  was  breath 

O'  the  runner  squandered  on  each  friendly  fool  — 

Wit-fireworks  fizzed  off  while  day  craved  no  flame : 

How  should  the  night  receive  her  due  of  fire 

Flared  out  in  Wasps  and  Horses,  Clouds  and  Birds, 

Prodigiously  a-crackle  ?     Rest  content ! 

The  new  adventure  for  the  novel  man 

Born  to  that*  next  success  myself  foresee 

In  right  of  where  I  reach  before  I  rest. 

At  end  of  a  long  course,  straight  all  the  way, 

Well  may  there  tremble  somewhat  into  ken 

The  untrod  path,  clouds  veiled  from  earlier  gaze  ! 

None  may  live  two  lives:  I  have  lived  mine  through 

Die  where  I  first  stand  still.     You  retrograde. 

I  leave  my  life's  work.     /  compete  with  you. 

My  last  with  your  last,  my  "Antiope"  — 

"Phoinissai"  — with  this  "Ploutos?"     No,  I  think! 

Ever  shall  "great  and  awful  Victory 

Accompany  my  life"  —  in  Maketis 

[f  not  Athenai.     Take  my  farewell,  friend ! 

Friend, — for  from  no  consummate  excellence 


\ 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  223 

Like  yours,  whatever  fault  may  countervail, 

Do  I  profess  estrangement :   murk  the  marsh, 

Yet  where  a  solitary  marble  block 

Blanches  the  gloom,  there  let  the  eagle  perch! 

You  show  —  what  splinters  of  Pentelikos, 

Islanded  by  what  ordure  !     Eagles  flyj 

Rest  on  the  right  place,  thence  depart  as  free  ; 

But  ware  man's  footstep,  would  it  traverse  mire 

Untainted!    Mire  is  safe  for  worms  that  crawl.* 

"  Balaustion  !     Here  are  very  many  words. 

All  to  portray  one  moment's  rush  of  thought,  — 

And  much  they  do  it !     Still,  you  understand. 

The  Archon,  the  Feast-master,  read  their  sum 

And  substance,  judged  the  banquet-glow  extinct. 

So  rose,  discreetly  if  abruptly,  crowned 

The  parting  cup,  — '  To  the  Good  Genius,  then ! ' 

"  Up  starts  young  Strattis  for  a  final  flash  : 
•Ay,  the  Good  Genius!     To  the  Comic  Muse, 
She  who  evolves  superiority, 


2  24  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Triumph  and  joy  from  sorrow,  unsuccess 
And  all  that's  incomplete  in  human  life  ; 
Who  proves  such  actual  failure  transient  wrong. 
Since  out  of  body  uncouth,  halt  and  maimed  — 
Since  out  of  soul  grotesque,  corrupt  or  blank  — 
Fancy,  uplifted  by  the  Muse,  can  flit 
To  soul  and  body,  re-instate  them  Man  : 
Beside  which  perfect  man,  how  clear  we  see 
Divergency  from  type  was  earth's  effect ! 
Escaping  whence  by  laughter,  —  Fancy's  feat,  — 
We  right  man's  wrong,  establish  true  for  false, — 
Above  misshapen  body,  uncouth  soul. 
Reach  the  fine  form,  the  clear  intelligence  — 
Above  unseemliness,  reach  decent  law, — 
By  laughter :    attestation  of  the  Muse 
That  low-and-ugsome  is  not  signed  and  sealed 
Incontrovertibly  man's  portion  here. 
Or,  if  hf;re,  —  why,  still  high-and-fair  exists 
Tn  that  ethereal  realm  where  laughs  our  soul 
Lift  by  the  Muse.     Hail  then  her  ministrant ! 
Hail  who  accepted  no  deformity 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  225 

In  man  as  normal  and  remediless, 
But  rather  pushed  it  to  such  gross  extreme 
That  outraged  we  protest  by  eye's  recoil 
The  opposite  proves  somewhere  rule  and  law! 
Hail  who  implied,  by  limning  Lamachos, 
'  Plenty  and  pastime  wait  on  peace,  not  war ! ' 
Philokleon  — '  better  bear  a  wrong  than  plead, 
Play  the  litigious  fool  to  stuff  the  mouth 
Of  dikast  with  the  due  three-obol  fee  ! ' 
The  Paphlagonian  —  'stick  to  the  old  sway 
Of  few  and  wise,  not  rabble-government ! ' 
Trugaios,  Pisthetairos,   Strepsiades, — 
Why  multiply  examples  ?     Hail,  in  fine, 
The  hero  of  each  painted  monster  —  so 
Suggesting  the  unpiclijred  perfect  shape ' 
Pour  out !     A  laugh  to  Aristophanes  ! ' 

"Stay,  my  fine  Strattis  "  —  and  I  stopped  applause - 
"  To  the  Good  Genius  —  but  the  Tragic  Muse  ! 
She  who  instructs  her  poet  'Bid  man's  soul 
Play  man's  part  merely  nor  attempt  the  gods' 


226  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Ill-guessed  of !     Task  humanity  to  height, 
Put  passion  to  prime  use,  urge  will,  unshamed 
When  will's  last  effort  breaks  in  impotence ! 
No  power  forego,  elude  :  no  weakness,  —  plied 
Fairly  by  power  and  will,  —  renounce,  deny  ! 
Acknowledge,  in  such  miscalled  weakness,  strength 
Latent :  and  substitute  thus  things  for  words ! 
Make  man  run  life's  race  fairly,  —  legs  and  feet, 
Craving  no  false  wings  to  o'erfly  its  length  ! 
Trust  on,  trust  ever,  trust  to  end  —  in  truth ! 
By  truth  of  extreme  passion,  utmost  will, 
Shame  back  all  false  display  of  either  force  — 
Barrier  about  such  strenuous  heat  and  glow, 
That  cowardice .  shall  shirk  contending,  —  cant, 
Pretension,  shrivel  at  truth's  first  approach  ! 
Pour  to  the  Tragic  Muse's  ministrant 
Who,  as  he  pictured  pure  Hippolutos, 
Abolished  our  earth's  blot  Ariphrades ; 
Who,  as  he  drew  Bellerophon  the  bold. 
Proclaimed  Kleonumos  incredible  ; 
Who,  as  his  Theseus  towgered  up  man  once  more, 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  227 

Made  Alkibiades  shrink  boy  again ! 

A  tear  —  no  woman's  tribute,  weak  exchange 

For  action,  water  spent  and  heart's-blood  saved  — 

No  man's  regret  for  greatness  gone,  ungraced 

Perchance  by  even  that  poor  meed,  man's  praise  — - 

But  some  god's  superabundance  of  desire, 

Yearning  of  will  to  'scape  necessity, — 

Love's  overbrimming  for  self-sacrifice, 

Whence  good  might  be,  which  never  else  may  be, 

By  power  displayed,  forbidden  this  strait  sphere,  — 

Effort  expressible  one  only  way  — 

Such  tear  from  me  fall  to  Euripides  ! ' 

"The  Thasian!  —  All,  the  Thasian,  I  account! 

"Wliereupon  outburst  the  whole  company 

Into  applause  and  —  laughter,  would  you  think? 

" '  The  unrivalled  one  !     How,  never  at  a  loss, 
He  turns  the  Tragic  on  its  Comic  side 
Else  imperceptible  !     Here's  death  itself — 


2  28  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Death  of  a  rival,  of  an  enemy, — 

Scarce  seen  as  Comic  till  the  master-touch 

Made  it  acknowledge  Aristophanes ! 

Lo,  that  Euripidean  laurel-tree 

Struck  to  the  heart  by  lightning!  .  Sokrates 

Would  question  us,  with  buzz  of  "  how  "  and  "  vvhy,' 

Wherefore  the  berry's  virtue,  the  bloom's  vice, 

Till  we  all  wished  him  quiet  with  his  friend ; 

Agathon  would  compose  an  elegy, 

Lyric  bewailment  fit  to  move  a  stone. 

And,  stones  responsive,  we  might  wince,  'tis  like  ; 

Nay,  with  most  cause  of  all  to  weep  the  least, 

Sophokles  ordains  mourning  for  his  sake 

While  we  confess  to  a  remorseful  twinge  :  — 

Suddenly,  who  but  Aristophanes, 

Prompt  to  the  rescue,  puts  forth  solemn  hand. 

Singles  us  out  the  tragic  tree's  best  branch. 

Persuades  it  groundward  and,  at  tip,  appends, 

For  votive-visor.  Faun's  goat-grinning  face  ! 

Back  it  flies,  evermore  with  jest  a-top. 

And  we  recover  the  true  mood,  and  laugh  ! ' 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  229 

"I  felt  as  when  some  Nikias,  —  ninny-like 
Troubled  by  sunspot-portent,  moon-eclipse, — 
At  fault  a  little,  sees  no  choice  but  sound 
Retreat  from  foeman ;  and  his  troops  mistake 
The  signal,  and  hail  onset  in  the  blast, 
And  at  their  joyous  answer,  alale, 
Back  the  old  courage  brings  the   scattered  wits ; 
He  wonders  what  his  doubt  meant,  quick  confirms 
The  happy  error,  blows  the  charge  amain. 
So  I  repaired  things. 

" '  Both  be  praised  '  thanked  I. 
'  You  who  have  laughed  with  Aristophanes, 
You  who  wept  rather  with  the  Lord  of  Tears  ! 
Priest,  do  thou,  president  alike  o'er  each. 
Tragic  and  Comic  function  of  the  god. 
Help  with  libation  to  the  blended  twain ! 
Either  of  which  who  serving,   only  servos  — 
Proclaims  himself  disqualified  to  pour 
To  that  Good  Genius  —  complex  Poetry, 
Uniting  each  god-grace,  including  both : 
Which,  operant  for  body  as  for  soul, 


230  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Masters  alike  the  laughter  and  the  tears, 

Supreme  in  lowliest  earth,  sublimest  sky. 

Who  dares  disjoin  these,  —  whether  he  ignores 

Body  or  soul,  whichever  half  destroys, — 

Maims  the  else  perfect  manhood,  perpetrates 

Again  the  inexpiable  crime  we  curse  — 

Hacks  at  the  Hermai,  halves  each  guardian  shape 

Combining,  nowise  vainly,  prominence 

Of  august  head  and  enthroned  intellect. 

With  homelier  symbol  of  asserted  sense, — 

Nature's  prime  impulse,  earthly  appetite. 

For,  when  our  folly  ventures  on  the  freak, 

Would  fain  abolish  joy  and  fruitfulness, 

Mutilate  nature  —  what  avails  the  Head 

Left  solitarily  predominant, — 

Unbodied  soul,  —  not  Hermes,  both  in  one  ? 

I,  no  more  than  our  City,  acquiesce 

In  such  a  desecration,  but  defend 

Man's  double  nature  —  ay,  wert  thou  its  fool 

Could  I  once  more,  thou  cold  Euripides, 

Encounter  thee,  in  nought  would  I   abate 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  231 

My  warfare,  nor  subdue  my  worst  attack 

On  thee  whose  life-work  preached  "Raise  soul,  sink 

sense ! 
Evirate  Hermes  !  "  —  would  avenge  the  god. 
And  justify  myself.     Once  face  to  face, 
Thou,  the  argute  and  tricksy,  shouldst  not  wrap, 
As  thine  old  fashion  was,  in  silent  scorn 
Those  breast-beats  quickened  at  the  sting  of  truth; 
Nor  turn  from  me,  as,  if  the  tale  be  true. 
From  Lais  when  she  met  thee  in  thy  walks. 
Demanded  why  she  had  no  rights  as  thou. 
Not  so  shouldst  thou  betake  thee,  be  assured. 
To  book  and  pencil,  deign  me  no  reply! 
I  would  extract  an  answer  from  those  lips 
So  closed  and  cold,  were  mine  the  garden-chance ! 
Gone  from  the  world !     Does  none  remain  to  take 
Thy  part  and  ply  me  with  thy  sophist-skill? 
No  sun  makes  proof  of  his  whole  potency 
For  gold  and  purple  in  that  orb  we  view; 
The  apparent  orb  does  little  but  leave  blind 
The  audacious,  and  confuse  the  worshipping. 


232  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

But,  close  on  orb's  departure,  must  succeed 

The  serviceable  cloud,  —  must  intervene, 

Induce  expenditure  of  rose  and  blue. 

Reveal  what  lay  in  him,  was  lost  to  us. 

So,  friends,  what  hinders,  as  we  homeward  go, 

If,  privileged  by  triumph  gained  to-day. 

We  clasp  that  cloud  our  sun  left  saturate, 

The  Rhodian  rosy  with  Euripides? 

Not  of  my  audience  on  my  triumph-day, 

She  and  her  husband !     After  the  night's  news 

Neither  will  sleep,  but  watch ;    I  know  the  mood. 

Accompany !  my  crown  declares  my  right ! ' 

"  And  here  you  stand  ,with  those  warm  golden  eyes  I 

"  In  honest  language,  I  am  scarce  too  sure 
Whether  I  really  felt,  indeed  expressed 
Then,  in  that  presence,  things  I  now  repeat : 
Nor  half,  nor  any  one  word,  —  will  that  do  ? 
May  be,  such  eyes  must  strike  conviction,  turn 
One's  nature  bottom  upwards,  show  the  base  — 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  233 

The  live  rock  latent  under  wave  and  foam :    , 

Superimposure  these !     Yet  solid  stuff  ■ 

Will  ever  and  anon,  obeying  star, 

(And  what  star  reaches  rock-nerve  like  an  eye  ?) 

Swim  up  to  surface,  spout  or  mud  or  flame, 

And  find  no  more  to  do  than  sink  as  fast, 

"Anyhow,  I  have  followed  happily 

The  impulse,  pledged  my  Genius  with  effect. 

Since,  come  to  see  you,  I  am  shown  —  myself ! " 

I  answered : 

"One  of  us  declared  for  both 
Welcome  the  glory  of  Aristophanes.' 
The  other  adds,  '  and,  —  if  that  glory  last. 
Nor  marsh-born  vapor  creep  to  veil  the  same, — 
Once  entered,  share  in  our  solemnity! 
Commemorate,  as  we,  Euripides  ! " 

"  What  ? "    he  looked   round,   "  1    darken    the    brigl  t 
house? 


234  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Profane  the  temple  of  your  deity? 

That's  true  !  Else  wherefore  does  he  stand  portrayed  ? 

What  Rhodian  paint  and  pencil  saved  so  much, 

Beard,  freckled  face,  brow  —  all  but  breath,  I  hope ' 

Come,  that's  unfair:    myself  am  somebody. 

Yet  my  pictorial  fame's  just  potter's  work, — 

I  barely  figure  on  men's  drinking-mugs ! 

I  and  the  Flat-nose,  Sophroniskos'  son, 

Oft  make  a  pair.     But  what's  this  lies  below? 

His  table-book  and  graver,  playwright's  tool ! 

And  lo,  the  sweet  psalterion,  strung  and  screwed, 

Whereon  he  tried  those  le-e-e-i-is 

And  ke-k-c-e-'es  and  turns  and  trills, 

Lovely  lark's  tirra-lirra,  lad's  denght ! 

Aischulos'  bronze-throat  eagle-bark  at  blood 

Has  somehow  spoiled  my  taste  for  twitterings  ! 

With  .  .  .  what,  and  did  he  leave  you  '  Herakles  *  ? 

The  'Frenzied  Hero,'  one  unfractured  sheet, 

No  pine-wood  tablets  smeared  with  treacherous  wax  — 

Papuros  perfect  as  e'er  tempted  pen ! 

This  sacred  twist  of  bay-leaves  dead  and  sere 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  235 

Must  be  that  crown  the  fine  work  failed  to  catch, — 
No  wonder  !    This  might  crown  *  Antiope.' 

*  Herakles '  triumph  ?    In  your  heart  perhaps ! 
But  elsewhere  ?     Come  now,  I'll  explain  the  case, 
Show  you  the  main  mistake.     Give  me  the  sheet ! " 

I  interrupted: 

"  Aristophanes ! 
The  stranger-woman  sues  in  her  abode  — 

*  Be  honored  as  our  guest ! '     But,  call  it  —  shrine, 
Then  *  Nt  dishonor  to  the  Daimon ! '  bids 

The  priestess  *  or  expect  dishonor's  due ! ' 
You  enter  fresh  from  your  worst  infamy, 
Last  instance  of  long  outrage ;  yet  I  pause, 
Withhold  the  word  a-tremble  on  my  lip, 
Incline  me,  rather,  yearn  to  reverence,  — 
So  you  but  suffer  that  I  see  the  blaze 
And  not  the  bolt, — the  splendid  fancy-fling, 
Not  the  cold  iron  malice,  the  launched  lie 
Whence  heavenly  fire  has  withered ;   impotent, 
Yet  execrable,  leave  it  'neath  the  look 


236  ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY. 

Of  yon  impassive  presence !   What  he  scorned, 

His  life  long,  need  I  touch,  offending  foot, 

To  prove  that  malice  missed  its  mark,  that  lie 

Cumbers  the  ground,  returns  to  whence  it  came? 

I  marvel,  I  deplore,  —  the  rest  be  mute  ! 

But,  throw  off  hate's  celestiality, — 

Show  jne,  apart  from  song-flash  and  wit-flame, 

A  mere  man's  hand  ignobly  clinched  against 

Yon  supreme  calmness,  —  and  I  interpose, 

Such  as  you  see  me  !   Silk  breaks  lightning's  blow !  * 

He  seemed  to  scarce  so  much  as  notice  me. 
Aught  I  had  spoken,  save  the  final  phrase : 
Arrested  there. 

"  Euripides  grown  calm ! 
Calmness  supreme  means  dead  and  therefore  safe," 
He  muttered  :    then  more  audibly  began  — 

"  Dead  !    Such  must  die !    Could  people  comprehend  \ 
There's  the  unfairness  of  it !    So  obtuse 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  237 

Are  all :    from  Solon  downward  with  his  saw 

'  Let  none  revile  the  dead,  —  no,  though  the  son. 

Nay,  far  descendant,  should  revile  thyself ! '  — 

To  him  who  made  Elektra,  in  the  act 

Of  wreaking  vengeance  on  her  worst  of  foes, 

Scruple  to  blame,  since  speech  that  blames  insults 

Too  much  the  very  villain  life-released. 

Now,  I  say,  only  after  death,  begins 

That  formidable  claim, — immunity 

Of  faultiness  from  fault's  due  punishment ! 

The^iving,  who  defame  me, — why,  they  live: 

Fools,  —  I  best  prove  them  foolish  by  their  life. 

Will  they  but  work  on,  lay  their  work  by  mine, 

And  wait  a  little,  one  Olympiad,  say! 

Then  —  where's  the  vital  force,  mine  froze  beside  ? 

The  sturdy  fibre,  shamed  my  brittle  stuff  ? 

The  school-correctness,  sure  ot  wise  award 

When  my  vagaries  cease  to  tickle  taste? 

Where's  censure  that  must  sink  me,  judgment  big 

Awaiting  just  the  word  posterity 

Pants  to  pronounce  ?     Time's  wave  breaks,  buries  — 


238  ARISTOPHANES''   APOLOGY. 

Fools,  when  myself  confronts  you  four  years  hence/ 

But  die,  ere  next  Lenaia,  —  safely  so 

You  'scape  me,  slink  with  all  your  ignorance, 

Stupidity  and  malice,  to  that  hole 

O'er  which  survivors  croak  '  Respect  the  dead  ! ' 

Ay,  for  I  needs  must !     But  allow  me  clutch 

Only  a  carrion-handful,  lend  it  sense, 

(Mine,  not  its  own,  or  could  it  answer  me?) 

And  question  'You,  I  pluck  from  hiding-place, 

Whose  cant  was,  certain  years  ago,  my  "Clouds" 

Might  last  until  the  swallows  came  with  Spring  — 

Whose  chatter,  "  Birds  "  are  unintelligible, 

Mere  psychologic  puzzling :  poetry  ? 

List,  the  true  lay  to  rock  a  cradle  with ! 

O  man  of  Mituleni,  wondrous  wise  / ' 

—  Would  not  I  rub  each  face  in  its  own  filth 

To  tune  of  '  Now  that  years  have  come  and  gone, 

How  does  the  fact  stand  ?    What's  demonstrable 

By  time,  that  tries  things?  —  your  own  test,  not  mine 

Who  think  men  are,  were,  ever  will  be  fools. 

Though  somehow  fools  confute  fools,  —  as  these,  you  5 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  239 

Don't  mumble  to  the  sheepish  twos  and  threes 
You  cornered  and  called  "audience!"  face  this  me 
Who  know,  and  can,  and  —  helped  by  fifty  years  — 
Do  pulverize  you  pygmies,  then  as  now ! ' 

"Ay,  now  as  then,  I  pulverize  the  brood, 

Balaustion  !     Mindful,  from  the  first,  where  foe 

Would  hide  head  safe  when  hand  had  flung  its  stone, 

I  did  not  turn  cheek  and  take  pleasantry. 

But  flogged  while  skin  could  purple  and  flesh  start, 

To  teach  fools  whom  they  tried  conclusions  with. 

First  face  a-splutter  at  me  got  such  splotch 

Of  prompt  slab  mud  as,  filling  mouth  to  maw. 

Made  its  concern  thenceforward  not  so  much 

To  criticise  me  as  go  cleanse  itself. 

The  only  drawback  to  which  huge  delight, — 

(He  saw  it,  how  he  saw  it,  that  calm  cold 

Sagacity  you  call  Euripides  !) 

—  Why,  'tis  that,  make  a  muckheap  of  a  man. 

There,  pillared  by  your  prowess,  he  remains, 

Immortally  immerded.     Not  so  he! 


240  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Men  pelted  him  but  got  no  pellet  back. 

He  reasoned,  I'll  engage,  —  'Acquaint  the  world 

Certain  minuteness  butted  at  my  knee  ? 

Dogface  Eruxis,  the  small  satirist,  — 

What  better  would  the  manikin  desire 

Than  to  strut  forth  on  tiptoe,  notable 

As  who  so  far  up  fouled  me  in  the  flank  ? ' 

So  dealt  he  with  the  dwarfs  :  we  giants,  too, 

Why  must  we  emulate  their  pin-point  play? 

Render  imperishable  —  impotence. 

For  mud  throw  mountains  ?    Zeus,  by  mud  unreached. 

Well,  'twas  no  dwarf  he  heaved  Olumpos  at ! " 

My  heart  burned  up  within  me  to  my  tongue. 

"  And  why  must  men  remember,  ages  hence. 
Who  it  was  rolled  down  rocks,  but  refuse  too  — 
Strattis  might  steal  from !  mixture-monument, 
Recording  what  ?     '  I,  Aristophanes, 
Who  boast  me  much  inventive  in  my  art, 
Against  Euripides  thus  volleyed  muck 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  241 

Because,  in  art,  he  too  extended  bounds. 
I  —  patriot,  loving  peace  and  hating  war, — 
Choosing  the  rule  of  few,  but  wise  and  good, 
Rather  than  mob-dictature,  fools  and  knaves 
However  multiplied  their  mastery,  — 
Despising  most  of  all  the  demagogue, 
(Noisome  air-bubble,  buoyed  up,  borne  along 
By  kindred  breath  of  knave  and  fool  below, 
Whose  hearts  swell  proudly  as  each  puffing  face 
Grows  big,  reflected  in  that  glassy  ball, 
Vacuit}',  just  bellied  out  to  break 
And  righteously  bespatter  friends  the  first) 
Loathing,  —  beyond  a  less  puissant  speech 
Than  my  own  god-grand  language  to  declare, — 
The  fawning,  cozenage  and  calumny 
Wherewith  such  favorite  feeds  the  populace 
That  fan  and  set  him  flying  for  reward  :  — 
I  who,  detecting  what  vice  imderlies 
Thought's  superstructure,  —  fancy's  sludge  and  slime 
Twixt  fact's  sound  floor  and  thought's  mere  surface- 
growth 


242  ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY. 

Of  hopes  and  fears  which  root  no  deeplier  down 
Than  where  all  such  mere  fungi  breed  and  bloat  — 
Namely,  man's  misconception  of  the  God  :  — 
i,  loving,  hating,  wishful  from  my  soul 
That  truth  should  triumph,  falsehood  have  defeat, 
—  Why,  all  my  soul's  supremacy  of  power 
Did  I  pour  out  in  volley  just  on  him 
Who,  his  whole  life  long,  championed  every  cause 
I  called  my  heart's  cause,  loving  as  I  loved, 
Hating  my  hates,  one  false  one  true  for  both, — 
Championed  my  cause  —  not  flagellating  foe 
With  simple  rose  and  lily,  gibe  and  jeer, 
Sly  wink  of  boon-companion  o'er  his  bowze 
Who,  while  he  blames  the  liquor,  smacks  the  lip, 
Blames,  doubtless,  but  leers  condonation  too, — 
No,  the  balled  fist  broke  brow  like  thunderbolt, 
Battered  till  braii«  flew !     Seeing  which  descent. 
None  questioned  that  was  first  acquaintanceship, 
The  avenger's  with  the  vice  he  crashed  through  bone 
Still,  he  displeased  me ;   and  I  turned  from  foe 
To  fellow-fighter,  flung  much  stone,  more  mud, — 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  243 

But  missed  him,  since  he  lives  aloof,  I  see.' 

Pah  !    stop  more  shame  deep-cutting  glory  thro  agh, 

Nor  add,  this  poet,  learned,  —  found  no  taunt 

Tell  like  '  That  other  poet  studies  books  ! ' 

Wise, — cried  'At  each  attempt  to  move  our  hearts, 

He  uses  the  mere  phrase  of   daily  life ! ' 

Witty,  — '  His  mother  was  a  herb-woman  ! ' 

Veracious,  honest,  loyal,  fair-and-good, — 

'  It  was  Kephisophon  who  helped  him  write ! ' 

"  Whence,  —  O  the  tragic  end  of  Comedy  !  — 

Balaustion  pities  Aristophanes. 

For,  who  believed  him  ?     Those  who  laughed  so  loud  ? 

They  heard  him  call  the  sun  Sicilian  cheese ! 

Had  he  called  true  cheese  —  curd,  would  muscle  move? 

What  made  them  laugh  but  the  enormous  lie  ? 

'  Kephisophon  wrote  "  Herakles  "  ?  ha,  ha, 

What  can  have  stirred  the  wine-dregs,  soured  the  soul, 

A.nd  set  a-lying  Aristophanes? 

Some  accident  at  which  he  took  offence  ! 

The  Tragic  Master  in  a  moody  muse 


§44  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Passed  him  unhailing,  and  it  hurts  —  it  hurts ! 
Beside,  there's  license  for  the  Wine-lees-song ! ' ' 

Blood  burnt  the  cheek-bone,  each  black   eye   flashed 
fierce. 

"  But  this  exceeds  our  license  !     Stay  a  while  — 
That's  the  solution  !   both  are  foreigners, 
The  fresh-come  Rhodian  lady,  and  her  spouse 
The  man  of  Phokis :    newly  resident. 
Nowise  instructed  —  that  explains  it  all ! 
No  born  and  bred  Athenian  hut  would  smile, 
Unless  frown  seemed  more  fit  for  ignorance. 
These  strangers  have  a  privilege ! 

2;  «  You  blame  " 

(Presently  he  resumed  with  milder  mien) 
"  Both  theory  and  practice  —  Comedy : 
Blame  her  from  altitudes  the  Tragic  friend 
Rose  to,  and  upraised  friends  along  with  him, 
No  matter  how.     Once  there,  all's  cold  and  fine. 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  245 

Passionless,  rational ;   our  world  beneath 

Shows  (should  you  condescend  to  grace  so  much 

As  glance  at  poor  Athenai)  grimly  gross  — 

A  population  which,  mere  flesh  and  blood, 

Eats,  drinks  and  kisses,  falls  to  fisticuffs. 

Then  hugs  as  hugely:   speaks  too  as  it  acts, 

Prodigiously  talks  nonsense,  —  townsmen  needs 

Miist  parley  in  their  town's  vernacular. 

Such  world  has,  of  two  courses,  one  to  choose-. 

Unworld  itself,  —  or  else  go  blackening  off 

To  its  crow-kindred,  leave  philosophy 

Her  heights  serene,  fit  perch  for  owls  like  you. 

Now,  since  the  world  demurs  to  either  course, 

Permit  me,  —  in  default  of  boy  or  girl, 

So  they  be  reared  Athenian,  good  and  true,  — 

To  praise  what  you  most  blame  !     Hear  Art's  defence ! 

I'll  prove  our  institution.  Comedy, 

Coeval  with  the  birth  of  freedom,  matched 

So  nice  with  our  Republic,  that  its  growth 

Measures  each  greatness,  just  as  its  decline 

Would  signalize  the  downfall  of  the  pair. 


246  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Our  Art  began  when  Bacchos  .  .  .  never  mind  ! 
You  and  your  master  don't  acknowledge  gods  : 
*  They  are  not,  no,  they  are  not ! '  well,  —  began 
When  the  rude  instinct  of  our  race  outspoke, 
Found,  —  on  recurrence  of  festivity 
Occasioned  by  black  mother-earth's  good  will 
To  children,  as  they  took  her  vintage-gifts,  — 
Found  —  not  the  least  of  many  benefits  — 
That  wine  unlocked  the  stiffest  lip,  and  loosed 
The  tongue  late  dry  and  reticent  of  joke, 
Through  custom's  gripe  which  gladness  thrusts  aside. 
So,  emulating  liberalities. 

Heaven  joined  with  earth  for  that  god's  day  at  least, 
Renewed  man's  privilege,  grown  obsolete, 
Of  telling  triith  nor  dreading  punishment. 
Whereon  the  joyous  band  disguised  their  forms 
With  skins,  beast-fashion,  daubed  each  phiz  with  dregs, 
Then  holloaed,  '  Neighbor,  you  are  fool,  you  —  knav(^ 
You  —  hard  to  serve,  you  —  stingy  to  reward ! ' 
The  guiltless  crowed,  the  guilty  sunk  their  crest, 
And  good  folks  gained  thereby,  'twas  evident. 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  247 

Whence,  by  degrees,  a  birth  of  happier  thought, 

The  notion  came  —  not  simply  this  to  say, 

But  this  to  do  —  prove,  put  in  evidence, 

And  act  the  fool,  the  knave,  the  harsh,  the   hunks, 

Who  did  prate,  cheat,  shake  fist,  draw  purse-string  tight, 

As  crowd  might  see,  which  only  heard  before. 

"  So  played  the  Poet,  with  his  man  of  parts ; 
And  all  the  others,  found  unqualified 
To  mount  cart  and  be  persons,  made  the  mob, 
Joined  choros,  fortified  their  fellows'  fun. 
Anticipated  the  community, 
Gave  judgment  which  the  public  ratified. 
Suiting  rough  weapon  doubtless  to  plain  truth, 
They  flung,  for  word-artillery,  why  —  filth; 
Still,  folks  who  wiped  the  unsavory  salute 
From  visage,  would  prefer  the  mess  to  wit  — 
Steel,  poked  through  midriff  with  a  civil  speech, 
As  now  the  way  is :    then,  the  kindlier  mode 
Was  —  drub  not  stab,  ribroast  not  scarify  ! 
So  did  Sousarion  introduce,  and  so, 


248  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY, 

Did  I,  acceding,  find  the  Comic  Art : 

Club,  —  if  I  call  it, —  notice  what's  implied! 

An  engine  proper  for  rough  chastisement, 

No  downright  slaying:    with  impunity  — 

Provided  crabtree,  steeped  in  oily  joke, 

Deal  only  such  a  bruise  as  laughter  cures. 

I  kept  the  gained  advantage  :  stickled  still 

For  club-law  —  stout  fun  and  allowanced  thurips  : 

Knocked  in  each  knob  a  crevice  to  hold  joke 

As  fig-leaf  holds  the  fat-fry. 

"  Next,  whom  thrash , 
Only  the  coarse  fool  and  the  clownish  knave? 
Higher,  more  artificial,  composite 
Offence  shOiUd  prove  my  prowess,  eye  and  arm  ! 
Not  who  robs  henroost,  tells  of  untaxed  figs, 
Spends  all  his  substance  on  stewed  ellops-fish, 
Or  gives  a  pheasant  to  his  neighbor's  wife  : 
No  I   strike  malpractice  that  affects  the  State, 
The  common  weal  —  intriguer  or  poltroon, 
Venality,  corruption,  what  care  I 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  249 

If  shrewd  or  witless  merely?  —  so  the  thing 

Lay  sap  to  aught  that  made  Athenai  bright 

And  happy,  change  her  customs,  lead  astray 

Youth  or  age,  play  the  demagogue  at  Pnux, 

The  sophist  in  Palaistra,  or  —  what's  worst, 

As  widest  mischief, — from  the  Theatre 

Preach  innovation,  bring  contempt  on  oaths, 

Adorn  licentiousness,  despise  the  Cult. 

Are  such  to  be  my  game  ?     Why,  then  there  wants 

Quite  other  cunning  than  a  cudgel-sweep  ! 

Grasp  the   old   stout  stock,  but  new  tip  with   steel 

Each  boss,  if  I  would  bray  —  no  callous  hide 

Simply,  but  Lamachos  in  coat  of  proof. 

Or  Kleon  cased  about  with  impudence  ! 

Shaft  pushed  no  worse  while  point  pierced  sparkling  *c 

That  none  smiled  '  Sportive,  what  seems  savagest, 

—  Innocuous  anger,  spiteless  rustic  mirth!' 

Yet  spiteless  in  a  sort,  considered  well, 

Since   I  pursued  my  warfare  till  each  wound 

Went  through  the  mere  man,  reached  the  principle 

Worth  purging  from  Athenai.      Lamachos  ? 


250  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

No,   I  attacked  war's  representative ; 

Kleon  ?     No,  flattery  of  the  populace  ; 

Sokrates  ?     No,  but  that  pernicious  seed 

Of  sophists  whereby  hopeful  youth  is  taught 

To  jabber  argument,  chop  logic,  pore 

On   sun  and  moon,  and  worship  whirligig. 

Oh,  your  tragedian,  with  the  lofty  grace, 

Aims  at  no  other  and  effects  as  much  ? 

Candidly :   what's  a  polished  period  worth. 

Filed  curt  sententiousness  of  loaded  line. 

When  he  who  deals  out  doctrine,   primly  steps 

From  just  that  selfsame  moon  he  maunders  of, 

And,  blood-thinned  by  his  pallid  nutriment. 

Proposes  to  rich  earth-blood — purity? 

In  me,  'twas  equal-balanced  flesh  rebuked 

Excess  alike  in  stuff-guts  Glauketes 

Or  starveling  Chairephon ;    I  challenged  both,  — 

Strong  understander  of  our  common  life, 

Staple  sustainment  of  humanity. 

Whereas  when  your  tragedian  cries  up  Peace  — 

He's  silent  as  to  cheesecake  Peace  may  chew ; 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  251 

Seeing  through  rabble-rule,  he  shuts  his  eye 

To  what  were  better  done  than  crowding  Pnux — 

Dancing  *  Threttanelo,  the  Kuklops  drunk  !  * 

"  My  power  has  hardly  need  to  vaunt  itself ! 
Opposers  peep  and  mutter,  or  speak  plain : 
'  No  naming  names  in  Comedy  I '  votes  one, 

*  Nor  vilifying  live  folk  ! '  legislates 
Another,  '  urge  amendment  on  the  dead  ! ' 

'  Don't  throw  away  hard  cash,'   supplies   a   third, 

*  But  crib  from  actor's  dresses,  choros-treats ! ' 
Then  Kleon  did  his  best  to  bully  me: 

Called  me  before  the  Law  Court :    '  Such  a  play 

Satirized  citizens  with  strangers  there, 

Such  other,'  —  why,  its  fault  was  in  myself! 

I  was,  this  time,  the  stranger,  privileged 

To   act  no  play  at  all,  —  Egyptian,  I  — 

Rhodian  or  Kameirensian,   Aiginete, 

Lindian,  or  any  foreigner  he  liked  — 

Because  I  can't  write  Attic,  probably ! 

Go  ask  my  rivals,  —  how  they  roughed  my  fleece, 


2S2  ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY. 

And  how,  shorn  pink  themselves,  the  huddled  sheep 
Shiver  at  distance  from  the   clapping  shears  ! 
Wliy  must  they  needs  provoke  me? 

"All  the  same, 
No  matter  for  its  triumph,   I  foretell 
Subsidence  of  the  day-star :   quench  his  beams  ? 
No  Aias  e'er  was  equal  to  the  feat 
By  throw  of  shield,  tough-hided  seven  times  seven, 
'Twixt  sky  and  earth !    'tis  dullards   soft  and   sure 
Who  breathe  against  his  brightest,  here   a  sigh 
And  there  a  '  So  let  be,  we  pardon  you  ! ' 
Till  the  minute  mist  hangs  entire,  has  tamed 
Noonblaze  to  'twilight  mild  and  equable,' 
Vote  the  old  women  spinning  out  of  doors. 
Give  me  the  earth-spasm,  when  the  lion  ramped 
And  the  bull  gendered  in  the  brave  gold  flare  ! 
O  you  shall  have  amusement, — better  still, 
Instruction  !  no  more  horse-play,  naming  names. 
Taxing  the  fancy  when  plain  sense  will  serve ! 
Thearion,  now,  my  friend  who  bakes  you  bread, 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  253 

What's  worthier  limning  than  his  household  life  ? 
His  whims  and  ways,  his  quarrels  with  the  spouse, 
And  how  the  son,  instead  of  learning  knead 
Kilikian  loaves,  brings  heart-break  on  his  sire 
By  buying  horseflesh  branded  San,  each  flank, 
From  shrewd  Menippos  who  imports  the  ware : 
While  pretty  daughter  Kepphd  too  much  haunts 
The  shop  of  Sporgilos  the  barber  !  brave ! 
Out  with  Thearion's  meal-tub  politics 
In  lieu  of  Pisthetairos,  Strepsiades ! 
That's  your  exchange  ?     O  Muse  of  Megara  ! 
Advise  the  fools  ''Feed  babe  on  weasel-lap 
For  wild-boar' s  marrow,  Cheiron's  hero-pap, 
And  rear,  for  man  —  Ariphrades,  mayhap  ! ' 
Yes,  my  Balaustion,  yes,  my  Euthukles, 
That's  your  exchange,  —  who,  foreigners  in  f ac: 
And  fancy,  would  impose  your  squeamishness 
On  sturdy  health,  and  substitute  such  brat 
For  the  right  offspring  of  us  Rocky  Ones, 
Because     babe     kicks     the     cradle,  —  crows,     not 
mewls  I 


254  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

"Which  brings  me  to  the  prime  fault,  poison-speck 

Whence  all  the  plague  springs — that  first  feud  of  all 

'Twixt  me  and  you  and  your  Euripides. 

'Unworld  the  world'  frowns  he,  my  opposite. 

I  cry,  '  Life  ! '  '  Death,'  he  groans,  '  our  better  Life  i ' 

Despise  what  is  —  the  good  and  graspable. 

Prefer  the  out  of  sight  and  in  at  mind. 

To  village-joy,  the  well-side  violet-patch, 

The  jolly  club-feast  when  our  field's  in  soak, 

Roast  thrushes,  haresoup,  peasoup,  deep  washed  down 

With  Peparethian ;   the  prompt  paying  off 

That  biack-eyed  brown-skinned  country-flavored  wench 

We  caught  among  our  brushwood  foraging : 

On  these  look  fig-juice,  curdle  up  life's  cream. 

And  fall  to  magnifying  misery ! 

Or,  if  you  condescend  to  happiness. 

Why,  talk,  talk,  talk  about  the  empty  name 

While  thing's  self  lies  neglected  'neath  your  nose  I 

/  need  particular  discourtesy 

And  private  insult  from  Euripides 

To  render  contest  with  him  credible  ? 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  255 

Say,  all  of  me  is  outraged  !    one  stretched  sense, 

I  represent  the  whole  Republic,  —  gods, 

Heroes,  priests,  legislators,  poets,  —  prone, 

And  pummelled  into  insignificance, 

If  will  in  him  were  matched  with  power  of  stroke. 

For  see  what  he  has  changed  or  hoped  to  change  ! 

How  few  years  since,  when  he  began  the  fight. 

Did  there  beat  life  indeed  Athenai  through! 

Plenty  and  peace,  then  !     Hellas  thundersmote 

The  Persian.     He  himself  had  birth,  you  say, 

That  morn  salvation  broke  at  Salamis, 

And  heroes  still  walked  earth.     Themistokles  — 

Surely  his  mere  back-stretch  of  hand  could  still 

Find,  not  so  lost  in  dark,  Odusseus  ?  —  he 

Holding  as  surely  on  to  Herakles, — 

Who    touched   Zeus,   link    and    link,    the    unruptured 

chain ! 
Were  poets  absent?     Aischulos  might  hail  — 
With  Pindaros,  Theognis,  —  whom  for  sire  ? 
Homeros'  self,  departed  yesterday ! 
t\^hile  Hellas,  saved  and  sung  to,  then  and  thus,  — 


256  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Ah,  people,  —  ah,  lost  antique  liberty  ! 

We  lived,  ourselves,  undoubted  lords  of  earth : 

Wherever  olives  flourish,  corn  yields  crop 

To  constitute  our  title  —  ours  such  land  ! 

Outside  of  oil  and  breadstuff,  —  barbarism! 

What  need  of  conquest  ?     Let  barbarians  starve ! 

Devote  our  whole  strength  to  our  sole  defence, 

Content  with  peerless  native  products,  home. 

Beauty  profuse  in  earth's  mere  sights  and  sounds, 

Such  men,  such  women,  and  such  gods  their  guard  ! 

The  gods  ?  he  worshipped  best  who  feared  them  most, 

And  left  their  nature  uninquired  into, 

—  Nature  ?  their  very  names !  pay  reverence, 

Do  sacrifice  for  out  part,  theirs  would  be 

To  prove  benignantest  of  playfellows. 

With  kindly  humanism  they  countenanced 

Our  emulation  of  divine  escapes 

Through  sense  and  soul :  soul,  sense  are  made  to  use ! 

Use  each,  acknowledging  its  god  the  while ! 

Crush  grape,  dance,  drink,  indulge,  for  Bacchos'  sake 

Tis  Aphroditd's  feast-day  —  frisk  and  fling, 


AR/STOPffAJVRS'  APOLOGY.  257 

Provided  we  observe  our  oaths,  and  house 
Duly  the  stranger  :  Zeus  takes  umbrage  else  ! 
Ah,  the  great  time  —  had  I  been  there  to  taste ! 
Perikles,  right  Olympian,  occupied 
As  yet  with  getting  an  Olumpos  reared 
Marble  and  gold  above  Akropolis,  — 
Wisely  so  spends  what  thrifty  fools  amassed 
For  cut-throat  projects.     Who  carves  Promachos  ? 
Who  writes  the  Oresteia? 

"Ah,  the  time  ! 
For,  all  at  once,  a  cloud  has  blanched  the  blue, 
A  cold  wind  creeps  through  the  close  vineyard-rank 
The  olive-leaves  curl,  violets  crisp  and  close 
Like  a  nymph's  wrinkling  at  the  bath's  first  splash 
(Your  pardon  !)     There's  a  restlessness,  a  change, 
Deterioration.     Larks  and  nightingales 
Are  silenced,  here  and  there  a  gor-crow  grim 
Flaps  past,  as  scenting  opportunity. 
Where  Kimon  passaged  to  the  Bould  once, 
A  starveling  crew,  unkempt,  unshorn,  unwashed. 


258  ARISTOPHANES^  APOLOGY. 

Occupy  altar-base  and  temple-step, 
Are  minded  to  indoctrinate  our  youth ! 
How  call  these  carrion  kill-joys  that  intrude  ? 
*  Wise  men,'  their  nomenclature  !     Prodikos  — 
Who  scarce  could,  unassisted,  pick  his  steps 
From  way  Theseia  to  the  Tripod's  way,  — 
This  empty  noddle  comprehends  the  sun, — 
How  he's  Aigina's  bigness,  wheels  no  whit 
His  way  from  east  to  west,  nor  wants  a  steed! 
And  here's  Protagoras  sets  wrongheads  right, 
Explains  what  virtue,  vice,  truth,  falsehood  mean, 
Makes  all  we  seemed  to  know  prove  ignorance 
Yet  knowledge  also,  since,  on  either  side 
Of  any  question,  something's  straight  to  say, 
Nothing  to  'stablish,  all  things  to  disturb  ? 
And  shall  youth  go  and  play  at  kottabos, 
Leaving  unsettled  whether  moon-spots  breed  ? 
Or  dare  keep  Choes  ere  the  problem's  solved  — 
Why  should  I  like  my  wife  who  dislikes  me  ? 
But  sure  the  gods  permit  this,  censure  that?' 
So  tell  them  !   straight  the  answer's  in  your  teeth : 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  259 

'You  relegate  these  points,  then,  to  the  gods? 
What  and  where  are  they  ? '     *  What  my  sire  supposed, 
And  where  yon  cloud  conceals  them  !'...'  Till  they 

'scape 
And  scramble  down  to  Leda,  as  a  swan, 
Europa,  as  a  bull !   why  not  as  —  ass 
To  somebody  ?    Your  sire  was  Zeus  perhaps ! 
Either  —  away  with  such  ineptitude  ! 
Or,  wanting  energy  to  break  your  bonds, 
Stick  to  the  good  old  stories,  think  the  rain 
Is  —  Zeus  distilling  pickle  through  a  sieve! 
Think  thunder's  thrown  to  break  Theoros'  head 
For  breaking  oaths  first!     So  you  let  ourselves 
Instruct  your  progeny  what  fools  are  you 
For  fearing  Zeus,  who  is  the  atmosphere, 
Brother  Poseidon,  otherwise  called  —  sea, 
And  son  Hephaistos  —  fire  and  nothing  else  ! 
Over  which  nothings  there's  a  something  still, 
"  Necessity,"  that  rules  the  universe 
And  cares  as  much  about  your  Choes-feast 
Performed  or  intermitted,  as  you  care 


26o  ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY. 

Whether  gnats  sound  their  trump  from  head  or  tail ' 

When,  stupefied  at  such  philosophy, 

We  cry,  '  Arrest  the  madmen,  governor ! 

Pound  hemlock  and  pour  bull's-blood,  Perikles  ! ' 

Would  you  believe?     The  Olympian  bends  his  brow, 

Scarce  pauses  from  his  building !     *  Say  they  thus  ? 

Then,  they  say  wisely.     Anaxagoras, 

I  had  not  known  how  simple  proves  eclipse 

But  for  thy  teaching !     Go,  men,  learn  like  me  ! ' 

" '  Well,  Zeus  nods :    man  must  reconcile  himself, 

So,  let  the  Charon's-company  harangue, 

And  Anaxagoras  be  —  as  we  wish  ! 

A  comfort  is  in  nature  :   while  grass  grows 

And  water  runs,  and  sesame  pricks  tongue. 

And  honey  from  Brilesian  hollow  melts 

On  mouth,  and  Bacchis'  lip  beats  both,  my  boy. 

You  will  not  be  untaught  life's  use,  young  man  ? ' 

Pho  !   My  young  man  just  proves  that  panniered  ass 

Said  to  have  borne  Youth  strapped  on  his  stout  back, 

Who  bargained  with  a  serpent,  let  him  swap 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  261 

The  priceless  boon  for  —  water  to  quench  thirst ! 
What's  youth  to  my  young  man?     In  love  with  age, 
He  Spartanizes,  argues,  fasts  and  prates, 
Denies  the  plainest  rules  of  life,  long  since 
Proved  sound;   sets  all  authority  aside. 
Must  simply  recommence  things,  learn  ere  act, 
And  think  out  thoroughly  how  youth  should  pass  — 
Just  as  if  youth  stops  passing,  all  the  same  ! 

"  One  last  resource  is  left  us  —  poetry ! 

'Vindicate  nature,  prove  Plataian  help, 

Turn  out,  a  thousand  strong,  all  right  and  tight. 

To  save  Sense,  poet!     Bang  the  sophist  brood 

Would  cheat  man  out  of  wholesome  sustenance 

By  swearing  wine  is  water,  honey  —  gall 

Saperdion  —  The  Empousa!     Panic-smit, 

Our  juveniles  abstain  from  Sense  and  starve. 

Be  yours  to  disenchant  them  !     Change  things  back ! 

Or  better,  strain  a  point  the  other  way 

And  handsomely  exaggerate  wronged  truth ! 

Lend  wine  a  glory  never  gained  from  grape, 


262  ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY. 

Help  honey  with  a  snatch  of  him  we  style 
The  Muses'  Bee,  bay-bloom-fed  Sophokles, 
And  give  Saperdion  a  Kimberic  robe  ! ' 

"  '  I,  his  successor,'  gruff  the  answer  grunts, 
*  Incline  to  poetize  philosophy, 
Extend  it  rather  than  restrain  ;   as  thus  — 
Are  heroes  men?     No  more,  and  scarce  as  much, 
Shall  mine  be  represented.     Are  men  poor? 
Behold  them  ragged  !  sick  ?  lame,  halt  and  blind ! 
Do  they  use  speech  ?     Ay,  street-terms,  market-phrase  ! 
Having  thus  drawn  sky  earthwards,  what  comes  next 
But  dare  the  opposite,  lift  earth  to  sky  ? 
Mere  puppets  once,  I  now  make  womankind. 
For  thinking,  saying,  doing,  match  the  male. 
Lift  earth  ?     I  drop  to,  dally  with,  earth's  dung  ! 
—  Recognize  in  the  very  slave  —  man's  mate, 
Declare  him  brave  and  honest,  kind  and  true, 
And  reasonable  as  his  lord,  in  brief. 
"I  paint  men  as  they  are"  —  so  runs  my  boast  — 
"Not   as    they   should   be:"   paint  —  what's    part   of 
"  man," 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  263 

—  WomQn  and  slaves, — not  as,  to  please  your  pride, 
They  should  be,  but  your  equals,  as  they  are. 
O  and  the  Gods!     Instead  of  abject  mien, 
Submissive  whisper,  while  my  Choros  cants 
"Zeus,  —  with  thy  cubit's  length  of  attributes, — 
May  I,  the  ephemeral,  ne'er  scrutinize 
Who  made  the  heaven  and  earth  and  all  things  there!  ' 
Myself  shall  say '  .  .  .  Ay,  '  Herakles  '  may  help  ! 
Give  me,  —  I  want  the  very  words,  —  attend  !  " 

He  read.     Then  —  "  Murder's  out,  —  '  There    are    no 

gods,' 
Man  has  no  master,  owns,  by  consequence, 
No  right,  no  wrong,  except  to  please  or  plague 
His  nature  :   what  man  likes  be  man's  sole  law ! 
Still,  since  he  likes  Saperdion,  honey,  figs, 
Man  may  reach  freedom  by  your  rotmdabout ! 
'  Never  believe  yourselves  the  freer  thence  1 
There  are  no  gods,  but  there's  "  Necessity,"  — 
Duty  enjoined  you,  fact  in  figment's  place. 
Throned  on  no  mountain,  native  to  the  mind ! 


264  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Therefore  deny  yourselves  Saperdion,  figs,  . 
And  honey,  for  the  sake  of — what  I  dream, 
A-sitting  with  my  legs  up  !  * 

"  Infamy ! 
The  poet  casts  in  calm  his  lot  with  these 
Assailants  of  Apollon !     Sworn  to  serve 
Each  Grace,  the  Furies  call  him  minister  — 
He,  who  was  born  for  just  that  rosy  world 
Renounced  so  madly,  where  what's  false  is  fact, 
Where  he  makes  beauty  out  of  ugliness, 
Where  he  lives,  life  itself  disguised  for  him 
As  immortality  —  so  works  the  spell. 
Enthusiastic  mood  which  marks  a  man 
Muse-mad,  dream-drunken,  wrapt  around  by  verse. 
Encircled  still  with  poet-atmosphere, 
As  lark  emballed  by  its  own  crystal  song. 
Or  rose  enmisted  by  that  scent  it  makes  1 
No,  this  were  unreality !   the  real 
He  wants,  not  falsehood, — truth  alone  he  seeks, 
Truth,  for  all  beauty!     Beauty,  in  all  truth  — 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGJ.  265 

That's  certain  somehow  !     Must  the  eagle  lilt 
Lark-like,  needs  fir-tree  blossom  rose-like  ?     No ! 
Strength  and  utility  charm  more  than  grace, 
And  what's  most  ugly  proves  most  beautiful. 
So  much  assistance  from  Euripides! 

""Whereupon  I  betake  me,  since  needs  must, 

To  a  concluding  '  Go  and  feed  the  crows ! 

Do  !     Spoil  your  art  as  you  renounce  your  life, 

Poetize  your  so  precious  system,  do, 

Degrade  the  hero,  nullify  the  god, 

Exhibit  women,  slaves  and  men  as  peers, — 

Your  castigation  follows  prompt  enough ! 

When  all's  concocted  up  stairs,  heels  o'er-head, 

Down  must  submissive  drop  the  masterpiece 

For  public  praise  or  blame  :   so,  praise  away, 

Friend  Sokrates,  wife's-friend  Kephisophon ! 

Boast  innovations,  cramp  phrase,  uncouth  song, 

Hard      matter      and     harsh      manner,     gods,     men, 

slaves 
And  women  jumbled  to  a  laughing-stock 


266  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Which  Hellas  shall  hold  sides  at  lest  she  split  I 
Hellas,  on  these,  shall  have-  her  word  to  say  ! ' 

"  She  has  it  and  she  says  it  —  there's  the  curse !  — ■ 

She  finds  he  makes  the   shag-rag  hero-race, 

The  noble  slaves,  wise  women,  move  as  much 

Pity  and  terror  as  true  tragic  types: 

Applauds  inventiveness  —  the  plot  so  new, 

The  turn  and  trick  subsidiary  so  strange  ! 

She  relishes  that  homely  phrase  of  life, 

That  common  town-talk,  more  than  trumpet-blasts ; 

Accords  him  right  to  chop  and  change  a  myth; 

'  What  better  right  had  he,  who  told  the  tale 

In  the  first  instance,  to  embellish  fact? 

This  bard  may  disembellish  yet  improve ! 

Both  find  a  block:   this  man  carves  back  to  bull 

What  first  his  predecessor  cut  to  sphynx: 

Such  genuine  actual  roarer,  nature's  brute, 

Intelligible  to  our  time,  was  sure 

The  old-world  artist's  purpose,  had  he  worked 

To  mind ;   this  artist  means  and  makes  the  thing ! 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  267 

Then,  past  dispute,  the  verse  slips  oily-bathed 

In  unctuous  music :   say,  effeminate  — 

You  also  say,  like  Kuthereia's  self, 

A  lulling  effluence  which  enswathes  some  isle 

Where  hides  a  nymph,  not  seen  but  felt  the  more.' 

That's  He>las'  verdict! 

"  Does  Euripides 
Even  so  far  absolved,  remain  content  ? 
Nowise  !     His  task  is  to  refine,  refine, 
Divide,  distinguish,  subtilize  away 
WTiatever  seemed  a  solid  planting-place 
For  footfall,  —  not  in  that  phantasmal  sphei^ 
Proper  to  poet,  but  on  vulgar  earth 
Where  people  used  to  tread  with  confidence. 
There's  left  no  longer  one  plain  positive 
Enunciation  incontestable 

Of  what's  good,  right  and  decent  here  on  earth. 
Nobody  now  can  say,  '  this  plot  is  mine. 
Though  but  a  plethron  square,  —  my  duty ! ' — '  Yours? 
Mine,  or  at  least  not  yours,'  snaps  somebody! 


268  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

And,  whether  the  dispute  be  parent-right 

Or  cJiildren's  service,  husband's  privilege 

Or  wife's  submission,  there's  a  snarling  straight, 

Smart  passage  of  opposing  *  yea '  and  *  nay,' 

'  Should,'  '  should  not,'  till,  howe'er  the  contest  end, 

Spectators  go  off  sighing,  *  Clever  thrust !  \ 

Why  was  I  so  much  hurried  to  pay  debt, 

Attend  my  mother,  sacrifice  an  ox. 

And  set  my  name  down  "for  a  trireme,  good"? 

Something  I  might  have  urged  on  t'other  side  ! 

No  doubt,  Chresphontes  or  Bellerophon 

We  don't  meet  every  day;   but  Stab-and-stitch 

The  tai]^  —  ere  I  turn  the  drachmas  o'er 

I  owe  him  for  a  chiton,  as  he  thinks, 

I'll  pose  the  blockhead  with  an  argument  1 ' 

"  So  has  he  triumphed,  your  Euripides ! 
Oh,  I  concede,  he  rarely  gained  a  prize : 
That's  quite  another  matter !   cause  for  that  1 
Still,  when  'twas  got  by  Ions,  lophons. 
Off  he  would  pace  confoundedly  superb, 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  269 

Supreme,  no  smile  at  movement  on  his  mouth 

Till  Sokrates  winked,  whispered :   out  it  broke  ! 

And  Aristullos  jotted  down  the  jest, 

While  lophons  or  Ions,  bay  on  brow, 

Looked  queerly,  and  the  foreigners  —  like  you  — 

Asked  o'er  the  border  with  a  puzzled  smile 

—  *  And  so,  you  value  Ions,  lophons, 

Euphorions  !     How  about  Euripides  ? ' 

(Eh,     brave     bard's  -  champion  ?      Do(^     the     angei 

boil  ? 
Keep  within  bounds  a  moment,  —  eye  and  lip 
Shall  loose  their  doom  on  me,  their  fiery  worst!) 
What  strangers  ?     Archelaos  heads  the  file  ! 
He  sympathizes,  he  concerns  himself, 
He  pens  epistle,  each  successless  play : 
*  Athenai  sinks  effete ;   there's  younger  blood 
In  Makedonia.     Visit  where  I  rule ! 
Do  honor  to  me  and  take  gratitude  1 
Live  the  guest's  life,  or  work  the  poet's  way, 
Which  also  means  the  statesman's :   he  who  wrote 
Erechtheus'  may  be  rawly  politic 


270  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

At  home  where  Kleophon  is  ripe  ;   but  here 
My  council-board  permits  him  choice  of  seats.' 

"  Now,   this  was  operating,  —  what  should  prove 

A  poison-tree,  had  flowered  far  on  to  fruit 

For  many  a  year,  —  when  I  was  moved,   first  man, 

To  dare  the  adventure,  down  with  root  and  branch, 

So,  from   its  sheath  I   drew  my  Comic  steel, 

And  dared  what  I   am  now  to  justify. 

A  serious  question  first,  though  ! 

"  Once  again ! 
Do  you  believe,  when  I  aspired  in  youth, 
I  made  no  estimate  of  power  at  all. 
Nor  paused  long,  nor  considered  much,  what  class 
Of  fighters  I  might  claim  to  join,   beside 
That  class  wherewith  I  cast  in  company? 
Say,  you  —  profuse  of  praise  no  less  than  blame  — 
Could  not  I  have  competed  —  franker  phrase 
Might  trulier  correspond  to  meaning  —  still, 
Competed  with  your  Tragic  paragon? 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  271 

Suppose  me  minded  simply  to  make  verse, 

To  fabricate,  parade  resplendent  arms. 

Flourish  and   sparkle  out  a  Trilogy, — 

Where  was  the  hinderance  ?     But  my  soul  bade  *  Fight ! 

Leave  flourishing  for  mock-foe,  pleasure -time ; 

Prove  arms  efficient  on  real  heads   and  hearts  ! ' 

How?     With  degeneracy  sapping  fast 

The  Marathonian  muscle,  nerved  of  old 

To  maul  the  Mede,  now  strung  at  best  to  help 

—  How  did   I  fable  ?  —  War  and   Hubbub  mash 

To  mincemeat  Fatherland  and  Brotherhood, 

Pound  in  their  mortar  Hellas,  State  by  State, 

That  greed   might  gorge,  the  while  frivolity 

Rubbed  hands  and  smacked  lips  o'er  the  dainty  dish ! 

Authority,  experience  —  pushed  aside 

By  any  upstart  pleading  throng  and  press 

O'  the  people  !     *  Think,  say,  do  thus  ! '     Wherefore, 

pray  ? 
'We  are  the  people  :   who  impugns   our  right 
Of  choosing  Kleon  that  tans   hide  so  well, 
Huperbolos  that  turns  out  lamps  so  trim. 


272  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Hemp-seller  Eukrates  or  Lusikles 

Sheep-dealer,   Kephalos  the  potter's  son, 

Diitriphes  who  weaves  the  willow-work 

To  go  round  bottles,  and  Nausikudes 

The  meal-man  ?  Such  we  choose  and  more,  their  mates, 

To  think  and  say  and  do  in  our  behalf ! ' 

While  sophistry  wagged  tongue,  emboldened  still, 

Found  matter  to  propose,  contest,  defend, 

'Stablish,  turn  topsyturvy,  —  all  the  same. 

No  matter  what,  provided  the  result 

Were  something  new  in  place  of  something  old,— 

Set  wagging  by  pure  insolence  of  soul 

Which  needs  must  pry  into,  have  warrant  for 

Each  right,  each  privilege  good  policy 

Protects  from  curious  eye  and  prating  mouth ! 

Everywhere  lust  to  shape  the  world  anew, 

Spurn  this  Athenai  as  we  find  her,  build 

A  new  impossible  Cloudcuckooburg 

For  feather-headed  birds,  once  solid  men, 

Where  rules,  discarding  jolly  habitude. 

Nourished  on  myrtle-berries  and  stray  ants, 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  273 

King  Tereus  who,  turned  Hoopoe  Triple-Crest, 
Shall  terrify  and  bring  the  gods  to  terms ! 

"  WTiere  was  I  ?     Oh !     Things  ailing  thus  —  I  ask, 

What  cure  ?     Cut,  thrust,  hack,  hew  at  heap-on-heaped 

Abomination  with  the  exquisite 

Palaistra-tool  of  polished  Tragedy? 

'  Erechtheus '  shall   harangue  Amphiktuon,' 

And  incidentally  drop  word  of  weight 

On  justice,  righteousness,  so  turn  aside 

The  audience  from  attacking  Sicily  !  — 

The  more  that  Choros,  after  he  recounts 

How  Phrixos  rode  the  ram,  the  far-famed  Fleece, 

Shall  add  —  at  last  fall  of  grave  dancing-foot  — 

'  Aggression  never  yet  was  helped  by  Zeus ! ' 

That  helps  or  liinders  Alkibiades  ? 

As  well  expect,  should  Pheidias  carve  Zeus'  seif 

And  set  him  up,  some  half  a  mile  away, 

His  frown  would  frighten  sparrows  from  your  field  / 

Eagles  may  recognize  their  lord,  belike. 

But  as  for  vulgar  sparrows,  —  change  the  god. 


274  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

And  plant  some  big  Priapos  with  a  pole  I 

I  wield  the  Comic  weapon  rather  —  hate! 

Hate  !    honest,  earnest,  and  directest  hate  — 

Warfare  wherein  I  close  with  enemy, 

Call  him  one  name  and  fifty  epithets. 

Remind  you  his  great-grandfather  sold  bran, 

Describe  the  new  exomion,  sleeveless  coat 

He  knocked  me  down  last  night  and  robbed  me  of, 

Protest  he  voted  for  a  tax  on  air  ! 

And  all  this  hate  —  if  I  write  Comedy  — 

With  tolerance,  most  like  —  applause,  perhaps 

True  veneration  ;  for  I  praise  the  god 

Present  in  person  of  his  minister, 

And  pay  —  the  wilder  my  extravagance  — 

The  more  appropriate  worship  to  the  Power 

Adulterous,  night-roaming,  and  the  rest: 

Otherwise,  —  that  originative  force 

Of  nature,  impulse  stirring  death  to  life, 

Which,  underlying  law,  seems  lawlessness, 

Yet  is  the  outbreak  which,  ere  order  be. 

Must  thrill  creation  through,  warm  stocks  and  stones, 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  275 

Phales  lacchos. 

"  Comedy  for  me  ! 
Why  not  for  you,  my  Tragic  masters?     Sneaks 
Whose  art  is  mere  desertion  of  a  trust ! 
Such  weapons  lay  to  hand,  the  ready  club, 
The  clay-ball,  on  the  ground  a  stone  to  snatch, — 
Arms  fit  to  bruise  the  boar's  neck,  break  the  chine 
O'  the  wolf,  —  and  you  must  impiously — despise? 
No,  I'll  say,  furtively  let  fall  that  trust 
Consigned    you !     'Twas  not  '  take  or  leave  alone,' 
But  '  take  and,  wielding,  recognize  your  god 
In  his  prime  attributes  ! '     And  though  full  soon 
You  sneaked,  subsided  into  poetry, 
Nor  met  your  due  reward,  still, — heroize 
And  speechify  and  sing-song  and  forego 
Far  as  you  may  your  function,  —  still  its  pact 
"Endures,  one  piece  of  early  homage  still 
Exacted  of  you ;    after  your  three  bouts 
At  hoitytoity,  great  men  with  long  words. 
And  so  forth,  —  at  the  end,  must  tack  itself 
The  genuine  sample,  the  Satyric  Play, 


276  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Concession,  with  its  wood-boys'-  fun  arid  freak, 

To  the  true  taste  of  the  mere  multitude. 

Yet,  there  again  !     What  does  your  Still-at-itch, 

Always-the-innovator  ?     Shrugs  and  shirks ! 

Out  of  his  fifty  Trilogies,  some  five 

Are  somehow  suited  :    Satyrs  dance  and  sing, 

Try  merriment,  a  grimly  prank  or  two, 

Sour  joke  squeezed  through  pursed  lips  and  teeth  on 

edge. 
Then  quick  on  top  of  toe  to  pastoral  sport, 
Goat-tending  and  sheep-herding,  cheese  and  cream, 
Soft  grass  and  silver  rillets,  country-fare  — 
When    throats   were   promised   Thasian !      Five   such 

feats,  — 
Then  frankly  off  he  threw  the  yoke  :    next  Droll, 
Next  festive  drama,  covenanted  fun, 
Decent  reversion  to  indecency. 
Proved  —  your     *  Alkestis  !  '       There's     quite     fun 

enough, 
Herakles  drunk  I     From  out  fate's  blackening  wave 
Calamitous,  just  zigzags  some  shot  star, 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  277 

Poor  promise  of  faint  joy,  and  turns  the  laugh 

On  dupes  whose  fears  and  tears  were  all  in  waste  ! 

"  For  which  sufficient  reasons,  in  truth's  name, 
I  closed  with  whom  you  count  the  Meaner  Muse. 
Classed  me  with  Comic  Poets  who  should  weld 
Dark  with  bright  metal,  show  their  blade  may  keep 
Its  adamantine  birthright  though  a-blaze 
With  poetr)',  the  gold,  and  wit,  the  gem, 
And  strike  mere  gold,  unstiffened  out  by  steel, 
Gem,  no  rough  iron  joints  its  strength  around, 
From  hand  of  —  posturer,  not  combatant ! 

"  Such  was  my  purpose  :    it  succeeds,  I  say  ! 

Have  not  we  beaten  Kallikratidas, 

Not  humbled  Spartd  ?     Peace  awaits  our  word, 

In  spite  of  Theramenes,  and  his  like. 

Since  my  previsions,  —  warranted  too  well 

By  the  long  war  now  waged  and  worn  to  end  — 

Had  spared  such  heritage  of  misery. 

My  after-counsels  scarce  need  fear  repulse. 

Athenai,  taught  prosperity  has  wings, 


278  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Cages  the  glad  recapture.     Demos,  see, 

From  folly's  premature  decrepitude 

Boiled  young  again,  emerges  from  the  stew 

Of  twenty-five  years'  trouble,  sits  and  sways, 

One  brilliance  and  one  balsam,  —  sways  and  sits 

Monarch  of  Hellas  !  ay  and,  sage  again, 

No  longer  jeopardizes  chieftainship, 

No  longer  loves  the  brutish  demagogue 

Appointed  by  a  bestial  multitude. 

But  seeks  out  sound  advisers.     Who  are  they  ? 

Ourselves,  of  parentage  proved  wise  and  good  ! 

To  such  may  hap  strains  thwarting  quality, 

(As  where  shall  want  its  flaw  mere  human  stuff?) 

Still,  the  right  grain  is  proper  to  right  race ; 

What's  contrary,  call  curious  accident !  ■ 

Hold  by  the  usual !     Orchard-grafted  tree, 

Not  wilding,  race-horse-sired,  not  rouncey-born, 

Aristocrat,  no  sausage-selling  snob ! 

Nay,  why  not  Alkibiades,  come  back 

Filled  by  the  Genius,  freed  of  petulance, 

Frailty,  —  say,  youthfulness  that's  all  at  fault,  — 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  279 

Renewed  to  Perikles  and  something  more  ? 

—  Being  at  least  our  duly  born  and  bred,  — 

Curse  on  what  chaunoprockt  first  gained  his  ear 

And  got  his  .  .  .  well,  once  true  man  in  right  place, 

Our  commonalty  soon  content  themselves 

With  doing  just  what  they  are  born  to  do, 

Eat,  drink,  make  merry,  mind  their  own  affairs 

And  leave  state-business  to  the  larger  brain  ! 

I  do  not  stickle  for  their  punishment ; ' 

But  certain  culprits  have  a  cloak  to  twitch, 

A  purse  to  pay  the  piper:    flog,  say  I, 

Your  fine  fantastics,  paragons  of  parts. 

Who  choose  to  play  the  important !    Far  from  side 

With  us,  their  natural  supports,  allies,  — 

And,  best  by  brain,  help  who  are  best  by  birth 

To  fortify  each  weak  point  in  the  wall 

Built  broad  and  wide  and  deep  for  permanence 

Between  what's  high  and  low,  what's  rare  and  vile,  — 

They  cast  their  lot  perversely  in  with  low 

And  vile,  lay  flat  the  barrier,  lift  the  mob 

To  dizzy  heights  where  Privilege  stood  firm. 


28o  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

And  then,  simplicity  become  conceit,  — 

Woman,  slave,  common  soldier,  artisan, 

Crazy  with  new-found  worth,  new-fangled  claims,  — 

These  must  be  taught  next  how  to  use  their  heads 

And  hands  in  driving  man's  right  to  mob's  rule  1 

What  fellows  thus  inflame  the  multitude  ? 

Your  Sokrates,  still  crying,  'Understand!' 

Your  Aristullos,  —  '  Argue  ! '      Last  and  worst, 

Should,  by  good  fortune,  mob  still  hesitate, 

Remember  there's  degree  in  heaven  and  earth, 

Cry,  '  Aischulos  enjoined  us  fear  the  gods, 

And  Sophokles  advised  respect  the  kings  ! ' 

Why,  your  Euripides  informs  them  —  Gods?        ^ 

They  are  not !  Kings  ?  They  are,  but  ...  do  not  I, 

In     '  Suppliants,'    make     my    Theseus,  —  yours,     no 

more, — 
Fire  up  at  insult  of  who  styles  him  King? 
riay  off  that  Herald,  I  despise  the  most. 
As  patronizing  kings'  prerogative 
Against  a  Theseus  proud  to  dare  no  step 
Till  he  consult  the  people  ? 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOCY.  281 

"Such  as  these  — 
Ah,  3rou  exp)ect  I  am  for  strangling  straight? 
Nowise,  Balaustion !     All  my  roundabout 
Ends  at  beginning,  with  my  own  defence  ! 
I  dose  each  culprit  just  with  —  Comedy. 
Let  each  be  doctored  in  exact  the  mode 
Himself  prescribes:    by  words,  the  word-monger  — 
My  words  to  his  words,  —  my  lies,  if  you  like, 
To  his  lies.     Sokrates  I  nickname  thief. 
Quack,  necromancer ;  AristuUos,  —  say, 
Male  Kirk^  who  bewitches  and  bewrays 
And  changes  folk  to  swine ;   Euripides,  — 
Well,  I  acknowledge  !     Every  word  is  false. 
Looked  close  at ;  but  stand  distant  and  stare  through. 
All's  absolute  indubitable  truth 
Behind  lies,  truth  which  only  lies  declare ! 
For  come,  concede  me  truth's  in  thing  not  word, 
Meaning    not  manner !      Love    smiles    *  rogue '   and 

*  wretch  * 
When  *  sweet '  and  '  dear '  seem  vapid  ;   Hate  adopts 
Love's  '  sweet  *  and  *  dear,'  when  *  rogue '  and  *  wretdx- 

fall  flat; 


282  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Love,    Hate  —  are   truths,    then,    each,    in    sense    not 

sound. 
Further :   if  Love,  remaining  Love,  fell  back 
On  *  sweet '  and  *  dear,'  —  if  Hate,  though   Hate    the 

same, 
Dropped     down    to     '  rogue '     and     '  wretch,'  —  each 

phrase  were  false. 
Good !  and  now  grant  I  hate  no  matter  whom 
With  reason  :    I  must  therefore  fight  my  foe, 
Finish  the  mischief  which  made  enmity. 
How  ?     By  employing  means  to  most  hurt  him 
Who  much  harmed  me.    What  way  did  he  do  harm? 
Through  word  or  deed  ?    Through  word  ?  with  word, 

wage  war! 
Word  with  myself  directly  ?     As  direct 
Reply  shall  follow  :   word  to  you,  the  wise, 
Whence  indirectly  came  the  harm  to  me? 
What  wisdom  I  can  muster  waits  on  such  s 
Word  to  the  populace  which,  misconceived 
By  ignorance  and  incapacity. 
Ends  in  no  such  effect  as  follows  cause 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  283 

When  I,  or  you  the  wise,  are  reasoned  with, 

So  damages  what  I  and  you  hold  dear  ? 

In  that  event,  I  ply  the  populace 

With  just  such  word  as  leavens  their  whole  lump 

To  the  right  ferment  for  my  purpose.     They 

Arbitrate  properly  between  us  both? 

They  weigh  my  answer  with  his  argument, 

Match  quip  with  quibble,  wit  with  eloquence? 

All  they  attain  to  understand  is — blank! 

Two  adversaries  differ  !   which  is  right 

And  which  is  wrong,  none  takes  on  him  to  say, 

Since  both  are  unintelligible.     Pooh ! 

Swear  my  foe's  mother  vended  herbs  she  stole, 

They  fall  a-laughing!     Add,  —  his  household  drudge 

Of  all-work  justifies  that  office  well, 

Kisses  the  wife,  composing  him  the  play, — 

They  grin  at  whom  they  gaped  in  wonderment, 

And  go  off  — '  Was  he  such  a  sorry  scrub  ? 

This  other  seems  to  know  !   we  praised  too  fast ! ' 

WTiy  then,  my  lies  have  done  the  work  of  truth, 

Since  '  scrub,'  improper  designation,  means 


284  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Exactly  what  the  proper  argument 

—  Had  such  been  comprehensible — proposed 

To  proper  audience  —  were  I  graced  with  such  — 

Would  properly  result  in  ;   so  your  friend 

Gets  an  impartial  verdict  on  his  verse, 

*  The  tongue  swears,  but  the  soul  remains  unsworn ! 

"  There,  my  Balaustion !     All  is  summed  and  said. 

No  other  cause  of  quarrel  with  yourself ! 

Euripides  and  Aristophanes 

Differ  :  he  needs  must  round  our  difference 

Into  the  mob's  ear  ;  with  the  mob  I  plead. 

You  angrily  start  forward  '  This  to  me  ? ' 

No  speck  of  this  on  you  the  thrice  refined ! 

Could  parley  be  restricted  to  us  two, 

My  first  of  duties  were  to  clear  up  doubt 

As  to  our  true  divergence  each  from  each. 

Does  my  opinion  so  diverge  from  yours? 

Probably  less  than  little  —  not  at  all 

To  know  a  matter,  for  my  very  self 

And  intimates  —  that's  one  thing;  to  imply 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  285 

By  '  knowledge  '  —  loosing  whatsoe'er  I  know 
Among  the  vulgar  who,  by  mere  mistake, 
May  brain  themselves  and  me  in  consequence,  — 
That's  quite  another.     '  O  the  daring  flight ! 
This  only  bard  maintains  the  exalted  brow, 
Nor  grovels  in  the  slime  nor  fears  the  gods  ! ' 
Did  /  fear  —  /  play  superstitious  fool, 
WTio,  with  the  due  proviso,  introduced, 
Active  and  passive,  their  whole  company 
As  creatxires  too  absurd  for  scorn  itself? 
Zeus  ?     I   have   styled  him  —  '  slave,  mere    thrashing- 
block  ! » 
I'll  tell  you:   in  my  very  next  of  plays. 
At  Bacchos'  feast,  in  Bacchos*  honor,  full 
In  front  of  Bacchos'  representative, 
I  mean  to  make  main-actor — Bacchos'  self! 
Forth  shall  he  strut,  apparent,  first  to  last, 
A  blockhead,  coward,  braggart,  liar,  thief, 
Demonstrated  all  these  by  his  own  mere 
Xanthias  the  man-slave:   such  man  shows  such  god 
Shamed  to  brute-beastship  by  comparison ! 


286  ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY. 

And  when  ears  have  their  fill  of  his  abuse, 

And  eyes  are  sated  with  his  pommelling, — 

My  Choros  taking  care,  by,  all  the  while 

Singing  his  glory,  that  men  recognize 

A  god  in  the  abused  and  pommelled  beast,  — 

Then,  should  one  ear  be  stopped  of  auditor, 

Should  one  spectator  shut  revolted  eye, — 

Why,  the  Priest's  self  will  first  raise  outraged  voice 

*  Back,  thou  barbarian,  thou  ineptitude ! 

Does  not  most  license  hallow  best  our  day, 

And  least  decorum  prove  its  strictest  rite  ? 

Since  Bacchos  bids  his  followers  play  the  fool. 

And  there's  no  fooling  like  a  majesty 

Mocked  at,  —  who  mocks  the  god,  obeys  the  law  — 

Law  which,  impute  but  indiscretion  to. 

And  .  .  .  why,  the  spirit  of  Euripides 

Is  evidently  active  in  the  world ! ' 

Do  I  stop  here  ?     No !   feat  of  flightier  force  ! 

See  Hermes  !   what  commotion  raged,  —  reflect !  — 

When  imaged  god  alone  got  injury 

By  drunkards'  frolicl    .How  Athenai  stared 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  2S7 

Aghast,  then  fell  to  frenzy,  fit  on  fit, — 

Ever  the  last,  the  longest !     At  this  hour, 

The  craze  abates  a  little ;   so,  my  Play 

Shall  have  up  Hermes  :   and  a  Karion,  slave, 

(Since  there's  no  getting  lower)  calls  our  friend 

The  profitable  god,  we  honor  so, 

Whatever  contumely  fouls  the  mouth  — 

Bids  him  go  earn  more  honest  livelihood 

By  washing  tripe  in  well-trough  —  wash  he  does, 

Duly  obedient !     Have  I  dared  my  best  ? 

Asklepios,  answer  !  —  deity  in  vogue, 

Wlio  visits  Sophokles  familiarly, 

If  you  believe  the  old  man,  —  at  his  age. 

Living  is  dreaming,  and  strange  guests  haunt  door 

Of  house,  belike,  peep  through  and  tap  at  times 

When  a  friend  yawns  there,  waiting  to  be  fetched,— 

At  any  rate,  to  memorize  the  fact, 

He  has  spent  money,  set  an  altar  up 

In  the  god's  temple,  now  in  much  repute. 

That  temple-service  trust  me  to  describe  — 

Cheaters  and  choused,  the  god,  his  brace  of  girls, 


288  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Their  snake,  and  how  they  manage  to  snap  gifts 
'And  consecrate  the  same  into  a  bag,' 
For  whimsies  done  away  with  in  the  dark! 
As  if,  a  stone's  throw  from  that  theatre 
Whereon  I  thus  unmask  their  dupery, 
The  thing  were  not  religious  and  august  1 

"Of  Sophokles  himself  —  nor  word  nor  sign 

Beyond  a  harmless  parody  or  so  ! 

He  founds  no  anti-school,  upsets  no  faith, 

But,  living,  lets  live,  the  good  easy  soul 

Who,  —  if  he  saves  his  cash,  unpoetlike. 

Loves  wine  and  —  never  mind  what  other  sport, 

Boasts  for  his  father  just  a  sword-blade-smith, 

Proves  but  queer  captain  when  the  people  claim. 

For  one  who  conquered  with  'Antigone,' 

The  right  to  undertake  a  squadron's  charge, — 

And  needs  the  son's  help  now  to  finish  plays, 

Seeing  his  dotage  calls  for  governance 

And  lophon  to  share  his  property, — 

Why,  of  all  this,  reported  true,  I  breathe 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  289 

Not  one  word  —  true  or  false,  I  like  the  man ! 
Sophokles  lives,  and  lets  live  :    long  live  he  ! 
Otherwise,  —  sharp  the  scourge  and  hard  the  blow ! 

"And  what's  my  teaching  but  —  accept  the  old, 

Contest  the  strange  !    acknowledge  work  that's  done, 

Misdoubt  men  who  have  still  their  work  to  do ! 

Religions,  laws  and  customs,  poetries, 

Are  old  ?     So  much  achieved  victorious  truth ! 

Each  work  was  product  of  a  lifetime,  wrung 

From  each  man  by  an  adverse  world:    for  why' 

He  worked,  destroying  other  older  work 

Which  the  world  loved  and  so  was  loath  to  lose. 

Whom  the  world  beat  in  battle  —  dust  and  ash! 

Who  beat  the  world,  left  work  in  evidence, 

And  wears  its  crown  till  new  men  live  new  lives, 

And  fight  new  fights,  and  triumph  in  their  turn. 

I  mean  to  show  you  on  the  stage  !    you'll  see 

My  Just  Judge  only  venture  to  decide 

Between  two  suitors,  which  is  god,  which  man, 

By  thrashing  both  of  them  as  flesh  can  bear. 


St^O  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

You  shall  a.gree,  —  whichever  bellows  first, 
He's  human  ;    who  holds  longest  out,  divine : 
That  is  the  only  equitable  test ! 
Cruelty  ?     Pray,  who  pricked  them  on  to  court 
My  thong's  award  ?     Must  they  needs  dominate  ? 
Then  I  —  rebel !     Their  instinct  grasps  the  new  ? 
Mine  bids  retain  the  old  :    a  fight  must  be, 
And  which  is  stronger  the  event  will  show. 

0  but  the  pain !     Your  proved  divinity 

Still  smarts  all  reddened  ?    And  the  rightlier  served  I 
Was  not  some  man's-flesh  in  him,  after  all  ? 
Do  let  us  lack  no  frank  acknowledgment 
There's  nature  common  to  both  gods  and  men ! 
All  of  them  —  spirit?    Wliat  so  winced  was  clay  I 
Away  pretence  to  some  exclusive  sphere 
Cloud-nourishing  a  sole  selected  few 
Fume-fed  with  self -superiority ! 

1  stand  up  for  the  common  coarse-as-clay 
Existence,  —  stamp  and  ramp  with  heel  and  hoof 
On  solid  vulgar  life,  you  fools  disown  1 

Make  haste  from  your  unreal  eminence, 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  291 

And  measure  lengths  with  me  upon  that  ground 

Whence  this  mud-pellet  sings  and  summons  you! 

I  know  the  soul,  too,  how  the  spark  ascends 

And  how  it  drops  apace  and  dies  away. 

I  am  your  poet-peer,  man  thrice  your  match ! 

I  too  can  lead  an  airy  life  when  dead, 

Fly  like  Kinesias  when  I'm  cloudward  bound  ; 

But  here,  no  death  shall  mix  with  life  it  mars! 

"  So,  my  old  enemy  who  caused  the  fight, 
Own  I  have  beaten  you,  Euripides  ! 
Or,  —  if  your  advocate  would  contravene, — 
Help  him,  Balaustion  !     Use  the  rosy  strength ! 
I  have  not  done  my  utmost,  —  treated  you 
As  I  might  Aristullos,  mint-perfumed,  — 
Still,  let  the  whole  rage  burst  in  brave  attack  I 
Don't  pay  the  poor  ambiguous  compliment 
Of  fearing  any  pearl-white  knuckled  fist 
Will  damage  this  broad  buttress  of  a  brow! 
Fancy  yourself  my  Aristonumos, 
Ameipsias  or  Sannurion :  punch  and  pound  1 


292  ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY. 

Three  cuckoos  who  cry  '  cuckoo  ! '   much  I  care  f 
They  boil  a  stone!  Neblaretai !  Rattei!" 


Cannot  your  task  have  end  here,  Euthukles? 
Day  by  day  glides  our  galley  on  its  path : 
Still  sunrise  and  still  sunset,  Rhodes  half-reached, 
And  still,  my  patient  scribe !   no  sunset's  peace 
Descends  more  punctual  than  that  brow's  incline 
O'er  tablets  which  your  serviceable  hand 
Prepares  to  trace.     Why  treasure  up,  forsooth, 
These  relics  of  a  night  that  left  me  rich. 
But,  in  remembrance  merely,  makes  less  poor 
None,  stranger  to  Athenai  and  her  past? 
For  —  how  remembered  !     As  some  greedy  hind 
Persuades  a  honeycomb,  beyond  the  due. 
To  yield  its  hoarding, — heedless  what  alloy 
Of  the  poor  bee's  own  substance  taints  the  gold 
Which,  unforced,  yields  few  drops,  but  purity,  — 
So  would  you  fain  relieve  of  load  this  brain. 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  293 

Though   the   hived   thoughts   must    bring  away,   with 

strength, 
What  words  and  weakness,  strength's  receptacle  — 
Wax  from  the  store  !     Yet,  —  aching  soothed  away,  — 
Accept  the  compound !     No  suspected  scent 
But  proves  some  rose  was  rifled,  though  its  ghost 
Scarce  lingers  with  what  promised  musk  and  vaftx\i. 
No  need  of  farther  squeezing!      What  remains 
Can  only  be  Balaustion,  just  her  speech ! 

Ah,  but — because  speech  serves  a  purpose  still!  — 


He  ended  with  that  flourish.      I  replied, 

**  Fancy  myself  your  Aristonumos  ? 

Advise  me,  rather,  to  remain  myself, 

Balaustion,  —  mindful  what  mere  mouse  confronts 

The  forest-monarch  Aristophanes ! 

I  who,  a  woman,  claim  no  quality 


^94  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Beside  the  love  of  all  things  lovable 

Created  by  that  power  pre-eminent 

In  knowledge,  as  in  love  I  stand  perchance, 

"—  You,  the  consummately-creative !      How 

Should  I,  then,  dare  deny  submissive  trust 

To  any  process  aiming  at  result 

Such  as  you  say  your  songs  are  pregnant  with? 

Result,  all  judge :   means,  let  none  scrutinize 

Save  those  aware  how  glory  best  is  gained 

By  daring  means  to  end,  ashamed  of  shame, 

Constant  in  faith  that  only  good  works  good, 

While  evil  yields  no  fruit  but  impotence ! 

Graced  with  such  plain  good,  I  accept  the  means  I 

Nay,  if  result  itself  in  turn  become 

Means,  —  who  shall  say  ?  —  to  ends  still  loftier  yet,  - 

Though  still  the  good  prove  hard  to  understand, 

The  bad  still  seemingly  predominate, — 

Never  may  I  forget  which  order  bears 

The  burden,  toils  to  win  the  great  reward, 

And  finds,  in  failure,  the  grave  punishment. 

So,  meantime,  claims  of  me  a  faith  I  yield! 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  295 

Moreover,  a  mere  woman,  I  recoil 

From  what  may  prove  man's-work  permissible, 

Imperative.      Rough  strokes  surprise  :   what  then  ? 

Some  lusty  armsweep  needs  must  cause  the  crash 

Of  thorn  and  bramble  ere  those  shrubs,  those  flowers, 

We  fain  would  have  earth  yield  exclusively, 

Are  sown,  matured,  are  garlanded  for  boys 

And  girls,  who  know  not  how  the  growth  was  gained. 

Finally,  am  I  not  a  foreigner? 

No  born  and  bred  Athenian,  —  isled  about, 

I  scarce  can  drink,  like  you,  at  every  breath, 

Just  some  particular  doctrine  which  may  best 

Explain  the  strange  thing  I  revolt  against  — 

How  —  by  involvement,  who  may  extricate?  — 

Religion  perks  up  through  impiety, 

Law  leers  with  license,  folly  wise-like  frowns, 

The  seemly  lurks  inside  the  abominable. 

But  opposites,  —  each  neutralizes  each 

Haply  by  mixture  :  what  should  promise  death, 

May  haply  give  the  good  ingredient  force. 

Disperse  in  fume  the  antagonistic  ill. 


296  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

This  institution,  therefore,  —  Comedy, — 

By  origin,  a  rite ;   by  exercise, 

Proved  an  achievement  tasking  poet's  jDOwer 

To  utmost,  eking  legislation  out 

Beyond  the  legislator's  faculty. 

Playing  the  censor  where  the  moralist 

Declines  his  function,  far  too  dignified 

For  dealing  with  minute  absurdities; 

By  efficacy,  —  virtue's  guard,  the  scourge 

00  vice,  each  folly's  fly-flap,  arm  in  aid 

Of  all  that's  righteous,  customary,  sound 

And  wholesome;  sanctioned  therefore,  —  better  say, 

Prescribed  for  fit  acceptance  of  this  age 

By,  not  alone  the  long  recorded  roll 

Of  earlier  triumphs  but,  success  to-day  — 

(The  multitude  as  prompt  recipient  still 

Of  good  gay  teaching  from  that  monitor 

They  crowned  this  morning  —  Aristophanes  — 

As  when  Sousarion's  car  first  traversed  street)  — 

This  product  of  Athenai  —  /  dispute, 

Impugn  ?    There's  just  one  only  circumstance 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  2g'j 

Explains  that !     I,  poor  critic,  see,  hear,  feel ; 

But  eyes,  ears,  senses  prove  me  —  foreigner ! 

Who  shall  gainsay  that  the  raw  new-come  guest 

Blames  oft,  too  sensitive?     On  every  side 

Of  —  larger  than  your  stage  —  life's  spectacle. 

Convention  here  permits  and  there  forbids 

Impulse  and  action,  nor  alleges  more 

Than  some  m}^sterious  '  So  do  all,  and  so 

Does  no  one : '   which  the  hasty  stranger  blames 

Because,  who  bends  the  head  unquestioning, 

Transgresses,  turns  to  wrong  what  else  were  right, 

By  failure  of  a  reference  to  law 

Beyond  convention ;  blames  unjustly,  too  — 

As  if,  through  that  defect,  all  gained  were  lost 

And  slave-brand  set  on  brow  indelibly ;  — 

Blames  unobservant  or  experienceless 

That  men,  like  trees,  if  stout  and  sound  and  sane, 

Show  stem  no  more  affected  at  the  root 

By  bough's  exceptional  submissive  dip 

Of  leaf  and  bell,  light  danced  at  end  of  spray 

To  windy  fitfulness  in  wayward  sport,  — 


298  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

No  more  lie  prostrate,  —  than  low  files  of  flower 
Which,  when  the  blast  goes  by,  unruflled  raise 
Each  head  again  o'er  ruder  meadow-wreck 
Of  thorn  and  thistle  that  refractory 
Demurred  to  cower  at  passing  wind's  caprice. 
Why  shall  not  guest  extend  like  charity, 
Conceive  how,  —  even  when  astounded  most 
That  natives  seem  to  acquiesce  in  muck 
Changed  by  prescription,  they  affirm,  to  gold, — 
Such  may  still  bring  to  test,  still  bear  away 
Safely  and  surely  much  of  good  and  true 
Though  latent  ore,  themselves  unspecked,  unspoiled? 
Fresh  bathed  i'  the  icebrook,  any  hand  may  pass 
A  placid  moment  through  the  lamp's  fierce  flame : 
And  who  has  read  your  '  Lemnians,'  seen  *  The  Houis, 
Heard  *  Female-Playhouse-seat-Pre-occupants,' 
May  feel  no  worse  effect  than,  once  a  year, 
Those  who  leave  decent  vesture,  dress  in  rags 
And  play  the  mendicant,  conform  thereby 
To  country's  rite,  and  then,  no  beggar-taint 
Retained,  don  vesture  due  next  morrow-day. 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  299 

What  if  I  share  the  stranger's  weakness  then  ? 
Well,  should  I  also  show  his  strength,  his  sense 
Untutored,  ay  !  —  but  then  untampered  with  ! 

"  I  fancy,  though  the  world  seems  old  enough, 
Though  Hellas  be  the  sole  unbarbarous  land. 
Years  may  conduct  to  such  extreme  of  age, 
And  outside  Hellas  such  new  isles  may  lurk. 
That  haply, — when  and  where  remain  a  dream!  — 
In  fresh  days  when  no  Hellas  fills  the  world. 
In  novel  lands  as  strange  where,  all  the  same, 
Their  men  and  women  yet  behold,  as  we, 
Blue   heaven,  black  earth,  and   love,  hate,  hope  and 

fear, 
Over  again,  unhelped  by  Attik^  — 
Haply  some  philanthropic  god  steers  bark. 
Gift-laden,  to  the  lonely  ignorance 
Islanded.,  say,  where  mist  and  snow  mass  hard 
To  metal  —  ay,  those  Kassiterides  ! 
Then  asks :  *  Ye  apprehend  the  human  form. 
What  of  this  statue,  made  to  Pheidias'  mind, 


300  ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY. 

This  picture,  as  it  pleased  our  Zeuxis  paint? 
Ye  too  feel  truth,  love  beauty :  judge  of  these  ! ' 
Such  strangers  may  judge  feebly,  stranger-like : 
'Each  hair  too  indistinct  —  for,  see  our  own! 
Hands,  not  skin-colored  as  these  hands  we  have, 
And  lo,  the  want  of  due  decorum  here ! 
A  citizen,  arrayed  in  civic  garb. 
Just  as  he  walked  your  streets  apparently, 
Yet  wears  no  sword  by  side,  adventures  thus. 
In  thronged  Athenai !  foolish  painter's-freak ! 
While  here's  his  brother-sculptor  found  at  fault 
Still  more  egregiously,  who  shames  the  world,- 
Shows  wrestler,  wrestling  at  the  public  games, 
Atrociously  exposed  from  head  to  foot ! ' 
Sure,  the  Immortal  would  impart  at  once 
Our    slow-stored    knowledge,    how    small   truths   sup- 
pressed 
Conduce  to  the  far  greater  truth's  display, — 
Would  replace  simple  by  instructed  sense, 
And  teach  Ihem  how  Athenai  first  so  tamed 
The  natural  fierceness  that  her  progeny 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY,  30 1 

Discarded  arms  nor  feared  the  beast  in  man : 
UTierefore  at  games,  where  earth's  wise  gratitude, 
Proved  by  responsive  culture,  claimed  the  prize 
For  man's  mind,  body,  each  in  excellence, — 
When  mind  had  bared  itself,  came  body's  turn, 
And  only  irreligion  grudged  the  gods 
One  naked  glory  of  their  master-work 
Where  all  is  glorious  rightly  understood, — 
The  human  frame  3  enough  that  man  mistakes : 
Let  him  not  think  the  gods  mistaken  too  ! 

"  But,  peradventure,  if  the  stranger's  eye 
Detected  .  .  .  Ah,  too  high  my  fancy-flight ! 
Pheidias,  forgive,  and  Zeuxis  bear  with  me  — 
How  on  your  faultless  should  I  fasten  fault 
Of  my  own  framing,  even  ?     Only  say,  — 
Suppose  the  impossible  were  realized. 
And  some  as  patent  incongruit}'. 
Unseemliness,  —  of  no  more  warrant,  there 
And  then,  than  now  and  here,  whate'er  the  tmi^ 
And     place,  —  I     say,     the     Immortal,  —  who     ca. 
doubt  ?  — 


302  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Would  never  shrink,  but  own  'The  blot  escaped 
Our  artist :  thus  he  shows  humanity ! ' 

"  May  stranger  tax  one  peccant  part  in  thee, 
Poet,  three-parts  divine?     May  I  proceed? 

"  *  Comedy  is  prescription  and  a  rite.' 

Since  when  ?     No  growth  of  the  blind  antique  time, 

*It  rose  in  Attikd  with  liberty; 

When  freedom  falls,  it  too  will  fall.'     Scarce  so ! 

Your    games,  —  the    Olympian,   Zeus    gave    birth    to 

these  ; 
Your  Pythian,  —  these  were  Phoibos'  institute. 
Isthmian,  Nemeian,  —  Theseus,  Herakles 
Appointed  each,  the  boys  and  barbers  say ! 
Earth's  day  is  growing  late  :   where's  Comedy  ? 
'  Oh,  that  commenced,  an  age  since,  —  two,  belike, — 
In  Megara,  whence  here  they  brought  the  thing ! ' 
Or  I  misunderstand,  or  here's  the  fact  — 
Your  grandsire  could  recall  that  rustic  song, 
How  suchanone  was  thief,  and  miser  such. 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  Z<^Z 

And  how,  —  immunity  from  chastisement 

Once  promised  to  bold  singers  of  the  same 

By  daylight  on  the  drunkard's  holiday, — - 

The  clever  fellow  of  the  joyous  troop 

Tried  acting  what  before  he  sang  about. 

Acted  and  stole,  or  hoarded,  acting  too: 

While  his  companions  ranged  a-row,  closed  up 

For  Choros,  —  bade  the  general  rabblement 

Sit,  see,  hear,  laugh,  —  not  join  the  dance  themselves. 

Soon,  the  same  clever  fellow  found  a  mate, 

And  these  two  did  the  whole  stage-mimicking, 

Still  closer  in  approach  to  Tragedy, — 

So  led  the  way  to  Aristophanes, 

Whose  grandsire  saw  Sousarion,  and  whose  sire  — 

Chionides  ;  yourself  wrote  *  Banqueters  ' 

When  Aischulos  had  made  'Prometheus,'  nay, 

All  of  the  marvels  ;   Sophoklesj  —  I'll  cite, 

'Oidipous' — and  Euripides  —  I  bend 

The  head  — '  Medeia '  henceforth  awed  the  world ! 

*  Banqueters '  '  Babylonians '  —  next  come  you  ! 

Surely  the  great  days  that  left  Hellas  free 


304  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Happened  before  such  advent  of  huge  help, 

Eighty-years-late  assistance  ?     Marathon, 

Plataia,  Salamis  were  fought,  I  think, 

Before  new  educators  stood  reproved, 

Or  foreign  legates  blushed,  excepted  to ! 

Where  did  the  helpful  rite  pretend  its  rise? 

Did  it  break  forth,  as  gifts  divine  are  wont. 

Plainly  authentic,  incontestably 

Adequate  to  the  helpful  ordinance  ? 

Founts,   dowered   with   virtue,   pulse   out    pure    from 

source ; 
'Tis  there  we  taste  the  god's  benign  intent : 
Not  when, — fatigued  away  by  journey,  foul 
With  brutish  trampling,  —  crystal  sinks  to  slime. 
And  lymph  forgets  the  first  salubriousness. 
Sprang  Comedy  to  light  thus  crystal-pure  ? 
'  Nowise  ! '  yourself  protest  with  vehemence ; 
*  Gross,  bestial,  did  the  clowns'  diversion  break ; 
Every  successor  paddled  in  the  slush  ; 
Nay,  my  contemporaries  one  and  all 
Gay  played  the  mudlark  till  I  joined  their  game; 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  3^5 

Then  was  I  first  to  change  buffoonery 
For  wit,  and  stupid  filth  for  cleanly  sense,  ^ 

Transforming  pointless  joke  to  purpose  fine,. 
Transfusing  rude  enforcement  of  home-law  — 
"Drop    knave's-tricks,    deal     more    neighbor-like,    ye 

boors !  "  — 
With  such  new  glory  of  poetic  breath 
As,  lifting  application  far  past  use 
O'  the  present,  launched  it  o'er  men's  lowly  heads 
To  future  time,  when  high  and  low  alike 
Are  dead  and  done  with,  while  my  airy  power 
Flies  disengaged,  as  vapor  from  what  stuff 
It  —  say  not,  dwelt — but  fitlier,  dallied  with 
To  forward  work,  which  done,  —  deliverance  brave,  — 
It  soars  away,  and  mud  subsides  to  dust. 
Say  then,  myself  invented  Comedy ! ' 

"  So  mouths  full  many  a  famed  Parabasis ! 
Agreed !      No  more,  then,  of  prescriptive  use. 
Authorization  by  antiquity. 
For  what  offends  our  judgment !      'Tis  your  work, 


306  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Performed  your  way:   not  work  delivered  you 

Intact,  intact  producible  in  turn. 

Ever3rwhere  have  you  altered  old  to  new  — 

Your  will,  your  warrant :   therefore,  work  must  stand 

Or  stumble  by  intrinsic  worth.      What  worth? 

Its  aim  and  object!     Peace,  you  advocate. 

And  war  would  fain  abolish  from  the  land: 

Support  religion,  lash  irreverence. 

Yet  laughingly  administer  rebuke 

To  superstitious  folly,  —  equal  fault ! 

While  innovating  rashness,  lust  of  change, 

New  laws,  new  habits,  manners,  men  and  things. 

Make  your  main  quarry,  — '  oldest '  meaning  '  best.' 

You  check  the  fretful  litigation-itch, 

Withstand  mob-rule,  expose  mob-flattery. 

Punish  mob-favorites ;  most  of  all  press  hard 

On  sophists  who  assist  the  demagogue. 

And  poets  their  accomplices  in  crime. 

Such  your  main  quarry,  —  by  the  way,  you  strike 

Ignobler  game,  mere  miscreants,  snob  or  scamp, 

Cowardly,  gluttonous,  effeminate: 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  3^7 

Still  with  a  bolt  to  spare  when  dramatist 

Proves  hapiy  unproficient  in  his  art. 

Such  aims  —  alone,  no  matter  for  llic  means  — 

Declare  the  unexampled  excellence 

Of  their  first  author  —  Aristophanes  ! 

"Whereat  —  Euripides,  oh,  not  thyself —  • 

Augustlier  than  the  need !  —  thy  century 

Of  subjects  dreamed  and  dared  and  done,  before 

*  Banqueters '  gave  dark  earth  enlightenment, 

Or  'Babylonians'  played  Prometheus  here, — 

These  let  me  summon  to  defend  thy  cause! 

Lo,  as  indignantly  took  life  and  shape 

Labor  by  labor,  all  of  Herakles, — 

Palpably  fronting  some  o'erbold  pretence 

'  Eurustheus  slew  the  monsters,  purged  the  world ! ' 

So  shall  each  poem  pass  you  and  imprint 

Shame  on  the  strange  assurance.      You  praised  Peace . 

Sing  him  full-face,  Kresphontes !     '  Peace '  the  theme  ? 

'  Peace,  in  whom  depths  of  wealth  lie,  —  of  the  bles 

Immortals  beauteousest,  — 


3o8  ARISTOPHANP.S'  APOLOGY. 

Come !  for  the  heart  within  me  (}^&6  away, 

So  long  dost  thou  delay ! 

O  I  have  feared  lest  old  age,  much  annoy, 

Conquer  me,  quite  outstrip  the  tardy  joy. 

Thy  gracious  triumph-season  I  would  see. 

The  song,  the  dance,  the  sport,  profuse  of  crowns  to  ba 

But  come !  ,for  my  sake,  goddess  great  and  dear, 

Come  to  the  city  here ! 

Hateful  Sedition  drive  thou  from  our  homes, 

With  Her  who  madly  roams 

Rejoicing  in  the  steel  against  the  life 

That's  whetted  —  banish  Strife  1 ' 

"  Shall  I  proceed  ?     No  need  of  next  and  next ! 
That  were  too  easy,  play  so  presses  play, 
Trooping  tumultuous,  each  with  instance  apt, 
Each  eager  to  confute  the  idle  boast ! 
What  virtue  but  stands  forth  panegyrized. 
What  vice,  unburned  by  stigma,  in  the  books 
Which  bettered  Hellas, — beyond  graven  gold 
Or  gem-indenture,  sung  by  Phoibos'  self 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  309 

And  saved  in  Kunthia's  mountain  treasure-house  — 

Ere  you,  man,  moralist,  were  youth  or  boy? 

^  Not  praise  which,  in  tlie  proffer,  mocks  the  praised 

By  sly  admixture  of  the  blameworthy 

And  enforced  coupling  of  base  fellowship. — 

Not  blame  which  gloats  the  while  it  frowning  laughs, 

*  Allow  one  glance  on  horrors  —  laughable ! '  — 

This  man's  entire  of  heart  and  soul,  discharged 

Its  love  or  hate,  each  unalloyed  by  each. 

On  objects  worthy  either;  earnestness. 

Attribute  him,  and  power!  but  novelty? 

Nor  his  nor  yours  a  doctrine  —  all  the  world's  1 

What  man  of  full-grown  sense  and  sanity 

Holds  other  than  the  truth,  —  wide  Hellas  through,— 

Though  truth  he  acts  discredit  truth  he  holds? 

What  imbecile  has  dared  to  formulate 

'  Love  war,  hate  peace,  become  a  litigant ! '  — 

And  so  preach  on,  reversing  rule  of  right 

Because  he  quarrels,  combats,  goes  to  lawr 

No,  for  his  comment  runs,  with  smile  or  sigh 

According  to  heart's  temper  '  Peace  were  best. 


3IO  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Except  occasions  when  we  put  aside 
Peace,  and  bid  all  tlie  blessings  in  her  gift 
Quick  join  the  crows,  for  sake  of  Marathon!' 

"  Nay,  you  reply  ;  for  one,  whose  mind  withstands 

His  heart,  and,  loving  peace,  for  conscience'  sake 

Wants  war,  —  you  find  a  crowd  of  hypocrites 

Whose  conscience  means  ambition,  grudge  and  greed 

On  such,  reproof,  sonorous  doctrine,  melts 

Distilled  like  universal  but  thin  dew 

Which  all  too  sparsely  covers  country :   dear, 

No  doubt,  to  universal  crop  and  clown. 

Still,  each  bedewed  keeps  his  own  head-gear  dry 

With  upthrust  skiadeion,  shakes  adroit 

The  droppings  to  his  neighbor.   *  No !  collect 

All  of  the  moisture,  leave  unhurt  the  heads 

Which  nowise  need  a  washing,  save  and  store 

And  dash  the  whole  condensed  to  one  fierce  spout 

On  some  one  evildoer,  sheltered  close,  — 

Fond  he  supposed,  —  till  you  beat  guard  away. 

And  showed  your  audience,  not  that  war  was  wrong, 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  3IX 

But  La  machos  absurd,  —  case,  crests  and  all, — 

Not  that  democracy  was  blind  of  choice, 

But  Kleon  and  Huperbolos  accurst : 

Not  superstition  vile,  but  Nikias  crazed,  — 

The  concrete  for  the  abstract ;  that's  the  wag ! 

What  matters  Choros  crying,  *  Hence,  impure  !  * 

You  cried,  *  Ariphrades  does  thus  and  thus ! ' 

Now,  earnestness  seems  never  earnest  more 

Than  when  it  dons  for  garb  —  indifference; 

So,  there's  much  laughing :   but,  compensative, 

When  frowning  follows  laughter,  then  indeed 

Scout  innuendo,  sarcasm,  irony  !  — 

Wit's  polished  warfare  glancing  at  first  graze 

From  off  hard  headpiece,  coarsely-coated  brain 

O'  the  commonalty — whom,  unless  you  prick 

To  purpose,  what  avails  that  finer  pates 

Succumb  to  simple  scratching?    Those — not  these  — 

'Tis  Multitude,  which,  moved,  fines  Lamachos, 

Banishes  Kleon  and  burns  Sokrates, 

House  over  head,  or,  better,  poisons  him. 

Therefore  in  dealing  with  King  Multitude, 


V 


312  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Club-drub  the  callous  numsculls !     In  and  in 

Beat  this  essential  consequential  fact 

That  here  they  have  a  hater  of  the  three, 

Who  hates  in  word,  praise,  nickname,  epithet 

And  illustration,  beyond  doubt  at  all  1 

And  similarly,  would  you  win  assent 

To  —  Peace,  suppose  ?     You  tickle  the  tough  hide 

With  good  plain  pleasure  her  concomitant  — 

And,  past  mistake  again,  exhibit  Peace  — 

Peace,  vintager  and  festive,  cheesecake-time, 

Hare-slice-and-peasoup  season,  household-joy ; 

Theoria's  beautiful  belongings  match 

Oporia's  lavish  condescendings  :    brief, 

Since  here  the  people  are  to  judge,  you  press 

Such  argument  as  people  understand : 

If  with  exaggeration  —  what  care  you? 

"Have  I  misunderstood  you  in  the  main? 
No  !   then  must  answer  be,  such  argument, 
Such  policy,  no  matter  what  good  love 
Or  hate  it  help,  in  practice  proves  absurd. 


ARISTOPHANES'    iPOLOGY.  313 

Useless  and  null :   hencefor\vard  intercepts 

Sober  effective  blow  at  what  you  blame, 

And  renders  nugatory  rightful  praise 

Of  thing  or  person.     The  coarse  brush  has  daabed  — 

What  room  for  the  fine  limner's  pencil-mark? 

Blame  ?      You   curse,   rather,   till   who   blames    must 

blush  — 
Lean  to  apology  or  praise,  more  like ! 
Does  garment,  simpered  o'er  as  white,  prove  gray? 
'Black,  blacker  than  Acharnian  charcoal,  black 
Beyond  Kimmerian,  Stugian  blackness  black.' 
You  bawl,  till  men  sigh  '  nearer  snowiness  ! ' 
What  follows?    What  one  faint-rewarding  fall 
Of  foe  belabored  ne'er  so  lustily  ? 
Laugh  Lamachos  from  out  the  people's  heart? 
He  died,  commanding,  '  hero,'  say  yourself ! 
Gibe  Nikias  into  privacy? — nay,  shake 
Kleon  a  little  from  his  arrogance 
By  cutting  him  to  shoe-sole-shreds  ?     I  think, 
He  ruled  his  life-long  and,  when  time  was  ripe, 
Died  fighting  for  amusement,  —  good  tough  hide  ! 


314  ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY. 

Sokrates  still  goes  up  and  down  the  streets 

And  Aristullos  puts  his  speech  in  book, 

When  both  should  be  abolished  long  ago. 

Nay,  wretchedest  of  rags,  Ariphrades  — 

You  have  been  fouling  that  redoubtable 

Harp-player,  twenty  years,  with  what  effect? 

Still  he  strums  on,  strums  ever  cheerily, 

And  earns  his  wage, — who  minds  a  joke?  men  say. 

No,  friend  !  The  statues  stand  —  mudstained  at  most  — 

Titan  or  pygmy  :    what  achieves  their  fall 

Will  be,  long  after  mud  is  flung  and  spent, 

Some  clear  thin  spirit-thrust  of  lightning  —  truth! 

"  Your  praise,  then  —  honey-smearing  helps  your  friend, 

More  than  blame's  ordure-smirch  hurts  foe,  perhaps  ? 

Peace,  now,  misunderstood,  ne'er  prized  enough, 

Vou  have  interpreted  to  ignorance 

Till  ignorance  opes  eye,  bat-blind  before. 

And  for  the  first  time  knows  Peace  means  the  powe' 

On  maw  of  pan-cake,  cheese-cake,  barley-cake. 

No  stop  nor  stint  to  stuffing.     While,  in  camp, 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  315. 

IMio  fights  chews  rancid  tunny,  onions  raw,  , 

Peiice  sits  at  cosey  feet  with  lamp  and  fire, 

Complaisant  smooth-sleeked  flute-girls  giggling  gay. 

How  thick  and  fast  the  snow  falls,  freezing  War 

Who  shrugs,  campaigns  it,  and  may  break  a  shin 

Or  twist  an  ankle !   come,  who  hesitates 

To  give  Peace,  over  War,  the  preference? 

Ah,  friend — had  this  indubitable  fact 

Haply  occurred  to  poor  Leonidas, 

How  had  he  turned  tail  on  Thermopulai ! 

It  cannot  be  that  even  his  few  wits 

Were  addled  to  the  point  that,  so  advised. 

Preposterous  he  had  answered  —  'Cakes  are  prime. 

Hearth-sides  are  snug,  sleek  dancing-girls  have  worth. 

And  yet  —  for  country's  sake,  to  save  our  gods 

Their  temples,  save  our  ancestors  their  tombs, 

Save  wife  and  child  and  home  and  liberty, — 

I  would  chew  sliced-salt-fish,  bear  snow  —  nay,  starve, 

If  need  were,  —  and  by  much  prefer  the  choice  ! ' 

'Vhy,  friend,  your  genuine  hero,  all  the  while. 

Has  been  —  who  served  precisely  for  your  butt  — 


.    3^6  ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY. 

Kleonumos  that,  wise,  cast  shield  away 

On  battle-ground;   cried,    'Cake  my  buckler  be. 

Embossed  with  cream-clot !   peace,  not  war,  I  choose, 

Holding  with  Dikaiopolis  ! '     Comedy 

Shall  triumph,  Dikaiopolis  win  assent, 

When  next  Miltiades  shirks  Marathon, 

Themistokles  swaps  Salamis  for — cake. 

And  Kimon  grunts,  '  Peace,  grant  me  dancing-girls  ! ' 

But  sooner,  hardly!   twenty-five  years  since, 

The  war  began,  —  such  pleas  for  Peace  have  reached 

A  reasonable  age.     The  end  shows  all  I 

And  so  with  all  the  rest  you  advocate  ! 

'  Wise  folk  leave  litigation !   ware  the  wasps  ! 

Who  loves  the  law  and  lawyers,  heliast-like, 

Wants  hemlock  ! '     None  shows  that  so  funnily. 

But,  once  cure  madness,  how  comports  himself 

Your  sane  exemplar,  what's  our  gain  thereby? 

Philokleon  turns  Bdelukleon  !   just  this  change,  — 

New  sanity  gets  straightway  drunk  as  sow. 

Cheats  baker-wives,  brawls,  kicks,  cuffs,  cuises  folk, 

Parades  a  shameless  flute-girl,  bandies  filth 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  3^7 

With  his  own  son  who  cured  his  father's  cold 

By  making  him  catch  fever — funnily! 

But  as  for  curing  love  of  law-suits  —  faugh! 

"And  how  does  new  improve  upon  the  old 
—Your  boast  —  in  even  abusing?     Rough,  may  be  — 
Still,  honest  was  the  old  mode.     '  Call  thief  —  thief ! ' 
But  never  call  —  thief  even  —  murderer  1 
Much  less  call  fop  and  fribble,  worse  one  whit 
Than  fribble  and  fop  !    Spare  neither  !  beat  your  brains 
For  adequate  invective,  —  cut  the  life 
Clean  out  each  quality,  —  but  load  your  lash 
With  no  least  lie,  or  we  pluck  scourge  from  hand! 
Does  poet  want  a  whipping,  write  bad  verse, 
Inculcate  foul  deeds  ?     There's  the  fault  to  flog  ! 
You  vow,  '  The  rascal  cannot  read  nor  write, 
Spends  more  in  buying  fish  than  Morsimos, 
Somebody  helps  his  Muse  and  courts  his  wife, 
His  uncle  deals  in  crockery,  and  last, — 
Himself 's  a  stranger ! '     That's  the  cap  and  crown 
Of  stinging-nettle,  that's  the  master-stroke  ! 


3l8  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

What  poet-rival,  —  after  '  housebreaker,' 
'  Fish-gorging,'  '  midnight  footpad,'  and  so  forth,  — 
Proves  not,  beside,  '  a  stranger  ? '  Chased  from  charge 
To  charge,  and,  lie  by  lie,  laughed  out  of  court,  — 
Lo,  wit's  sure  refuge,  satire's  grand  resource  — 
All,  from  Kratinos  downward  —  '  strangers '  they  \ 
Pity  the  trick's  too  facile !     None  so  raw 
Among  your  playmates  but  have  caught  the  ball 
And  sent  it  back  as  briskly  to  —  yourself ! 
You  too,  my  Attic,  are  styled  '  stranger '  —  Rhodes 
Aigina,  Lindos  or  Kameiros,  —  nay, 
'Twas  Egypt  reared  (if  Eupolis  be  right) 
Who  wrote  the  comedy  (Kratinos  vows) 
Kratinos  helped  a  little  !     Kleon's  self 
Was  nigh  promoted  Comic,  when  he  haled 
My  poet  into  court,  and  o'er  the  coals 
Hauled  and  re-hauled  '  the  stranger,  —  insolent, 
Who  brought  out  plays,  usurped  our  privilege  ! ' 
Why  must  you  Comics  one  and  all  take  stand 
On  lower  ground  than  truth  from  first  to  last? 
Why  all  agree  to  let  folks  disbelieve, 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  319 

So  laughter  but  reward  a  funny  lie  ? 

Repel  such  onslaughts  —  answer,  sad  and  grave, 

Your  fancy-fleerings  —  who  would  stoop  so  low? 

Your  own  adherents  whisper,  —  when  disgust 

Too  menacingly  thrills  Logeion  through 

At  —  Perikles  invents  this  present  war 

Because  men  robbed  his  mistress  of  three  maids  — 

Or — Sokrates  wants  burning,  house  o'er  head, — 

'What,  so  obtuse,  not  read  between  the  lines? 

Our  poet  means  no  mischief  !     All  should  know  — 

Ribaldry  here  implies  a  compliment! 

He  deals  with  things,  not  men,  —  his  men  are  things  — 

Each  represents  a  class,  plays  figure-head 

And  names  the  ship :   no  meaner  than  the  first 

Would  serve  ;  he  styles  a  trireme  "  Sokrates  "  — 

Fears  "  Sokrates  "  may  prove  unseaworthy, 

(That's  merely  — "  Sophists  are  the  bane  of  boys  ") 

Rat-riddled  ("they  are  capable  of  theft") 

Rotten  or  whatsoe'er  shows  ship-disease, 

("  They  war  with  gods  and  worship  whirligig.") 

You  never  took  the  joke  for  earnest?  scarce 


320  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Supposed  mere  figure-head  meant  entire  ship, 
And  Sokrates  —  the  wliole  fraternity  ? ' 

"This  tlien  is  Comedy,  our  sacred  song, 

Censor  of  vice,  and  virtue's  guard  as  sure : 

Manners-instructing,  morals'  stop-estray, 

Which,  born  a  twin  with  public  liberty. 

Thrives  with  its  welfare,  dwindles  with  its  wanel 

Liberty?  what  so  exquisitely  framed 

And  fitted  to  suck  dry  its  life  of  life 

To  last  faint  fibre?  —  since  that  life  is  truth! 

You  who  profess  your  indignation  swells 

At  sophistry,  when  specious  words  confuse 

Deeds  right  and  wrong,  distinct  before,  you  say — 

(Though  all  that's  done  is  —  dare  veracity. 

Show  that  the  true  conception  of  each  deed 

Affirmed,  in  vulgar  parlance,  '  wrong '  or  '  right,* 

Proves  to  be  neither,  as  the  hasty  hold, 

But,  change  your  side,  shoots  light,  where  dark  alone 

Was  apprehended  by  the  vulgar  sense) 

Vou  who  put  sophistry  to  shame,  and  shout, 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  321 

There's  but  a  single  side  to  man  and  thing ; 
A  side  so  much  more  big  than  thing  or  man 
Possibly  can  be,  that  —  believe  'tis  true  ? 
Such  were  too  marvellous  simplicity ! '  — 
Confess,  those  sophists  whom  yourself  depict, 
( — Abide  by  your  own  painting!)  what  they  teach, 
They  wish  at  least  their  pupil  to  believe, 
And,  what  believe,  to  practise  !  did  you  wish 
Hellas  should  haste,  as  taught,  with  torch  in  han 
And  fire  the  horrid  Speculation-shop  ? 
Straight  the  shop's  master  rose  and  showed  the  mob 
What  man  was  your  so  monstrous  Sokratesj 
Himself  received  amusement,  why  not  they? 
Just  as  did  Kleon  first  play  magistrate 
And  bid  you  put  your  birth  in  evidence  — 
Since  no  unbadged  buffoon  is  licensed  here 
To  shame  us  all  when  foreign  guests  may  mock  -^ 
Then, — birth  establi'Shed,  fooling  licensed  you, — 
He,  duly  done,  resumed  mere  auditor, 
Laughed  with  tlie  loudest  at  his  Lamia-shape, 
Kukloboros-roaring,  and  the  camel-rest. 


322  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Nay,  Aristullos,  —  once  your  volley  spent 
On  the  male-Kirkd  and  her  swinish  crew, — 
Platon,  —  so  others  call  the  youth  we  love,  — 
Sends  your  performance  to  the  curious  king  — 
'  Do  you  desire  to  know  Athenai's  knack 
At  turning  seriousness  to  pleasantry? 
Read  this  !     One  Aristullos  means  myself. 
The  author  is  indeed  a  merry  grig  ! ' 
Nay,  it  would  seem  as  if  yourself  were  bent 
On  Jaying  down  the  law  *  Tell  lies  I  must  — 
Aforethought  and  of  purpose,  no  mistake ! ' 
When  forth  yourself  step,  tell  us  from  the  stage, 
'Here  you  behold  the  King  of  Comedy  — 
Me,  who,  the  first,  have  purged  my  every  piece 
From  each  and  all  my  predecessors'  filth, 
Abjured  those  satyr-adjuncts  sewn  to  bid 
The  boys  laugh,  satyr-jokes  whereof  not  one 
Least  sample  but  would  make  my  hair  turn  gray 
Beyond  a  twelvemonth's  ravage !     I  renounce 
Mountebank-claptrap,  such  as  firework-fizz 
A.nd  torch  flare,  or  else  nuts  and  barleycorns 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  Z'^Z 

Scattered  among  the  crowd,  to  scramble  for 

And  stop  their  mouths  with  ;  no  such  stuff  shames  me! 

VVlio, — what's   n^ore   serious,  —  know  both   when    to 

strike 
And  when  to  stay  my  hand  :   once  dead,  my  foe, 
Why,  done,  my  fighting !     I  attack  a  corpse  ? 
I  spare  the  corpse-Uke  even !   punish  age  ? 
I  pity  from  my  soul  that  sad  effete 
Toothless  old  mumbler  called  Kratinos!   once 
My  rival,  —  now,  alack,  the  dotard  slinks 
Ragged  and  hungry  to  what  hole's  his  home ; 
Ay,  slinks  through  byways  where  no  passenger 
Flings  him  a  bone,  to  pick.     You  formerly 
Adored  the  Muses'  darling :   dotard  now, 
\Vh}-,  he  may  stan'e !   O  mob  most  mutable  ! ' 
So  you  harangued  in  person ;  while,  —  to  point 
Precisely  out,  these  were  but  lies  you  launched, — 
Prompt,  a  play  followed  primed  with  satyr-frisks. 
No  spice  spared  of  the  stomach-turning  stew. 
Full  fraught  with  torch-displaj',  and  barley-throw, 
And  Kleon,  dead  enough,  bedaubed  afresh  ; 


324  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

While  daft  Kratinos — home  to  hole  trudged  he, 
Wrung  dry  his  wit  to  the  last  vinous  dregs, 
Decanted  them  to  '  Bottle,'  —  beat^  next  year,  — 
'Bottle'  and  dregs  —  your  best  of  'Clouds'  and  dew! 
Where,  Comic  King,  may  keenest  eye  detect 
Improvement  on  your  predecessors'  work 
Except  in  lying  with  audacity? 

"  Why  —  genius !      That's    the    grandeur,    that's    the 

gold  — 
That's  you  —  superlatively  true  to  touch  — 
Gold,  leaf  or  lump  —  gold,  anyhow  the  mass 
Take  manufacture  and  prove  Pallas'  casque 
Or,  as  your  choice  falls,  simply  cask  to  keep 
Corruption  from  decay !     Your  rivals'  hoard 
May  ooze  forth,  lacking  such  preservative : 
Yours  cannot  —  gold  plays  guardian  far  too  well  1 
Genius,  I  call  yoii :  dross,  your  rivals  share ; 
Ay,  share  and  share  alike,  too !   says  the  world. 
However  you  pretend  supremacy 
In  aught  beside  that  gold,  your  very  own. 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  325 

Satire  ?    *  Kratinos  for  our  satirist ! ' 

The  world  cries.     Elegance?     'Who  elegant 

As  Eupolis  ? '   resounds  as  noisily. 

Artistic  fancy?     Choros-creatures  quaint? 

Magnes  invented  '  Birds '  and  *  Frogs '  enough, 

Archippos  punned,  Hegemon  parodied, 

To  heart's  content,  before  you  stepped  on  stage. 

Moral  invective?     Eupolis  exposed 

*That  prating  beggar,  he  who  stole  the  cup,' 

Before  your  *  Clouds '  rained  grime  on  Sokrates ; 

Nay,  what  beat  '  Clouds '  but  '  Konnos,'  muck  for  mud  ? 

Courage  ?     How  long  before,  well-masked,  you  poured 

Abuse  on  Eukrates  and  Lusikles, 

Did  Telekleides  and  Hermippos  pelt 

Their  Perikles  and  Kumon  ?   standing  forth. 

Bare-headed,  not  safe  crouched  behind  a  name,  — 

Philonides  or  else  Kallistratos, 

Put  forth,  when  danger  threatened,  —  mask  for  face, 

To  bear  the  brunt,  —  if  blame  fell,  take  the  blame, — 

If  praise  .  .  .  why,  frank  laughed  Aristophanes 

-They  write  such  rare  stuff?     No,  I  promise  you!* 


326  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Rather,  I  see  all  true  improvements,  made 

Or  making,  go  against  you  —  tooth  and  nail 

Contended  with !    'tis  still  Moruchides, 

'Tis  Euthumenes,  Surakosios,  nay, 

Argurrhios  and  Kinesias,  —  common  sense 

And  public  shame,  these  only  cleanse  your  style  1 

Coerced,  prohibited,  —  you  grin  and  bear. 

And,  soon  as  may  be,  hug  to  heart  again 

The  banished  nastiness  too  dear  to  drop ! 

Krates  could  teach  and  practise  festive  song 

Vet  scorn  scurrility  ;   as  gay  and  good, 

Pherekrates  could  follow.      Who  loosed  hold, 

Must  let  fall  rose-wreath,  stoop  to  muck  once  more  ^ 

Did  your  particular  self  advance  in  aught. 

Task  the  oad  genius  —  steady  slave  the  while  — 

To  further  —  say,  the  patriotic  aim? 

No,  there's  deterioration  manifest 

Year  by  year,  play  by  play !   survey  them  all, 

From  that  boy's-triumph  when  '  Acharnes '  dawned, 

To  '  lliesmophoriazousai,'  —  this  man's-shame  1 

There,  truly,  patriot  zeal  so  prominent 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  Z^'. 

Allowed  friends'  plea  perhaps :   the  baser  stuff 

Was  but  the  nobler  spirit's  vehicl:* 

Who  would  imprison,  unvolatilize 

A  violet's  perfume,  blends  with  fatty  oils 

Essence  too  fugitive  in  flower  alone  ; 

So,  calling  unguent  —  violet,  call  the  play  — 

Obscenity  impregnated  with  '  Peace ' ! 

But  here's  the  boy  grown  bald,  and  here's  the  play 

With  twenty  years'  experience :   where's  one  spice 

Of  odor  in  the  hogs'-lard  ?   what  pretends 

To  aught  except  a  grease-pot's  quality? 

Friend,  sophist-hating!   know, — worst  sophistry 

Is  when  man's  own  soul  plays  its  own  self  false, 

Reasons  a  vice  into  a  virtue,  pleads 

*I  detail  sin  to  shame  its  author'  —  not 

'  I  shame  Ariphrades  for  sin's  display '  1 

'  I  show  Oporia  to  commend  Sweet  Home '  — 

Not  '  I  show  Bacchis  for  the  striplings'  sake  1  * 

"  Yet  all  the  same  —  O  genius  and  O  gold  — 
Had  genius  ne'er  diverted  gold  from  use 


328  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Worthy  the  temple,  to  do  copper's  work 

And  coat  a  swine's  trough  —  which  abundantly 

Might  furnish  Phoibos'  tripod,  Pallas'  throne  ! 

Had  you,  I  dream,  discarding  all  the  base, 

The  brutish,  spurned  alone  convention's  watch 

And  ward  against  invading  decency, 

Disguised  as  license,  law  in  lawlessness, 

And  so,  re-ordinating  outworn  rule, 

Made  Comedy  and  Tragedy  combine. 

Prove  some  new  Both-yet-neither,  all  one  bard, 

Euripides  with  Aristophanes 

Co-operant !   this,  reproducing  Now 

As  that  gave  Then  existence :   Life  to-day, 

This,  as  that  other — Life  dead  long  ago! 

The  mob  decrees  such  feat  no  crown,  perchance, 

But  —  why  call  crowning  the  reward  of  quest  ? 

Tell  him,  my  other  poet,  —  where  thou  walk'st 

Some  rarer  world  than  e'er  Ilissos  washed! 

"  But  dream  goes  idly  in  the  air.     To  earth ! 
Eartli's  question  just  amounts  to  —  which  succeeds, 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  329 

Which  fails  of  two  life-long  antagonists? 

Suppose  my  charges  all  mistake  !    assume 

Your  end,  despite  ambiguous  means,  the  best  — 

The  only!   you  and  he,  a  patriot-pair, 

Have  striven  alike  for  one  result  —  say.  Peace  ! 

You  spoke  your  best  straight  to  the  arbiters  — 

Our  people :   have  you  made  them  end  this  war 

By  dint  of  laughter  and  abuse  and  lies 

And  postures  of  Oporia  ?     Sadly  —  No  ! 

This  war,  despite  your  twenty-five  years'  work, 

May  yet  endure  until  Athenai  falls, 

And  freedom  falls  with  her.     So  much  for  you ! 

Now,  the  antagonist  Euripides  — 

Has  he  succeeded  better?    Who  shall  say? 

He  spoke  quite  o'er  the  heads  of  Kleon's  crowd 

To  a  dim  future,  and  if  there  he  fail, 

Why,  you  are  fellov>-3  in  adversity. 

But  tnat's  unlike  the  fate  of  wise  words  launched 

By  music  on  their  voyage.     Hail,  Depart, 

Arrive,  Glad  Welcome !     Not  my  single  wish  — 

Yours  also  wafts  the  white  sail  on  its  way, 


330  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Your  nature  too  is  kingly.     All  beside 

I  call  pretension  —  no  true  potentate. 

Whatever  intermediary  be  crowned, 

Zeus  or  Poseidon,  where  the  vulgar  sky 

Lacks  not  Triballos  to  complete  the  group. 

I  recognize,  —  behind  such  phantom-crew,  — 

Necessity,  Creation,  Poet's  Power, 

Else  never  had  I  dared  approach,  appeal 

To  poetry,  power,  Aristophanes ! 

But  I  trust  truth's  inherent  kingliness, 

Trust  who,  by  reason  of  much  truth,  shall  reign 

More  or  less  royally  —  may  prayer  but  push 

His  sway  past  limit,  purge  the  false  from  true ! 

Nor,  even  so,  had  boldness  nerved  my  tongue 

But  that  the  other  king  stands  suddenly, 

In  all  the  grand  investiture  of  death, 

Bowing  your  knee  beside  my  lowly  head  — 

Equals  one  moment! 

"Now,  arise  and  go! 
Both  have  done  homage  to  Euripides ! " 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  33' 

Silence  ptirsued  the  words :   till  he  broke  out  — 

"  Scarce  so !   This  constitutes,  I  may  believe, 
Sufficient  homage  done  by  who  defames 
Your  poet's  foe,  since  you  account  me  such ; 
But  homage-proper, — pay  it  by  defence 
Of  him,  direct  defence  and  not  oblique, 
Not  by  mere  mild  admonishment  of  me  I  *' 

"  Defence  ?     The  best,  the  only  ! "   I  replied. 

"A  story  goes  —  When  Sophokles,  last  year. 

Cited  before  tribunal  by  his  son 

(A  poet  —  to  complete  the  parallel) 

Was  certified  unsound  of  intellect. 

And  claimed  as  only  fit  for  tutelage, 

Since  old  and  doating  and  incompetent 

To  carr)'  on  this  world's  work,  —  the  defence 

Consisted  just  in  his  reciting  (calm 

As  the  verse  bore,  which  sets  our  heart  a-swell 

And  voice  a-heaAang  too  tempestuously) 

That  choros-chant  '  The  station  of  the  steed, 


332  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Stranger !   thou  comest  to,  —  Kolonos  white  ! ' 

Then  he  looked  round  and  all  revolt  was  dead. 

You  know  the  one  adventure  of  my  life  — 

What  made  Euripides  Balaustion's  friend. 

When  I  last  saw  him,  as  he  bade  farewell, 

'  I  sang  another  "  Herakles," '  smiled  he  ; 

'  It  gained  no  prize  :   your  love  be  prize  I  gain ! 

Take  it  —  the  tablets  also  where  I  traced 

The  story  first  with  stulos  pendent  still  — 

Nay,  the  psalterion  may  complete  the  gift, 

So,  should  you  croon  the  ode  bewailing  Age, 

Yourself  shall  modulate  —  same  notes,  same  strings  • 

With  the  old  friend  who  loved  Balaustion  once.' 

There  they  lie !     When  you  broke  our  solitude, 

We  were  about  to  honor  him  once  more 

By  reading  the  consummate  Tragedy. 

Night  is  advanced ;   I  have  small  mind  to  sleep ; 

May  I  go  on,  and  read,  —  so  make  defence, 

So  test  true  godship  ?    You  affirm,  not  I, 

—  Beating  the  god,  affords  such  test :   /  hold 

That  when  rash  hands  but  touch  divinity, 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  ZZZ 

The  chains  drop  off,  the  prison-walls  dispart, 

And  —  fire  — he  fronts  mad  Pentheus !    Dare  we  try  ?  " 

A.ccordingly  I  read  the  perfect  piece. 


HERAKLES. 


AMPHITRUON. 

Zeus'  Couchmate,  —  who  of  mortals  knows  not  me, 

Argive  Amphitruon  whom  Alkaios  sired 

Of  old,  as  Perseus  hira,  I  —  Herakles  ? 

My  home,  this  Thebai  where  the  earth-born  spike 

Of  Sown-ones  burgeoned  :    Ares  saved  from  these 

A  handful  of  their  seed  that  stocks  to-day 

With  children's  children  Thebai,  Kadmos  built. 

Of  these  had  Kreon  birth,  Menoikeus'  child, 

King  of  the  country,  —  Kreon  that  became 

The  father  of  this  woman,  Megara, 

Whom,  when  time  was,  Kadmeians  one  and  all 

Pealed  praise  to,  marriage-songs  with  fluted  help. 


33^  HERAKLES. 

While  to  my  dwelling  that  jrrand  Herakles 

Bore  her,  his  bride.     But,  leaving  Thebes  —  where  1 

Abode  perforce  —  this  Megara  and  those 

Her  kinsmen,  the  desire  possessed  my  son 

Rather  to  dwell  in  Argos,  that  v/alled  work, 

Kuklopian  city,  which  I  fly,  myself. 

Because  I  slew  Elektruon.     Seeking  so 

To  ease  away  my  hardships  and  once  more 

Inhabit  his  own  land,  for  my  return 

Heavy  the  price  he  pays  Eurustheus  there  — 

The  letting  in  of  light  on  this  choked  world  ! 

Either  he  promised,  vanquished  by  the  goad 

Of  Herd,  or  because  fate  willed  it  thus. 

The  other  labors  —  why,  he  toiled  them  through ; 

But  for  this  last  one  —  down  by  Tainaros, 

Its  mouth,  to  Haides'  realm  descended  he 

To  drag  into  the  light  the  three-shaped  hound 

Of  Hell :    whence  Herakles  returns  no  more. 

Now,  there's  an  old-world  tale,  Kadmeians  have. 

Plow  Dirkd's  husband  was  a  Lukos  once, 

Holding  the  seven-towered  city  here  in  sway 


HERAKLES.  337 

Before  they  ruled  the  land,  white-steeded  pair, 
Amphion,  Zethos,  bom  to  2^us  the  twins. 
This  Lukos'  son,  —  named  like  his  father  too, 
No  born  Kadmeian  but  Euboia's  gift, — 
Comes  and  kills  Kreon,  lords  it  o'er  the  land. 
Falling  upon  our  town  sedition-sick. 
To  us,  akin  to  Kreon,  just  that  bond 
Becomes  the  worst  of  evils,  seemingly; 
For,  since  my  sou  is  in  the  earth's  abysms. 
This  man  of  valor,  Lukos,  lord  and  king. 
Seeks  now  to  slay  these  sons  of  Herakles, 
And  slay  his  wife  as  well, — by  murder  thus 
Thinking  to  stamp  out  murder,  —  slay  too  me, 
(If  me  'tis  fit  you  count  among  men  still, — 
Useless  old  3:g^  and  all  for  fear  lest  these, 
GrowTi  men  one  day,  exact  due  punishment 
Of  bloodshed  and  their  mother's  father's  fate. 
I  therefore,  since  he  leaves  me  in  these  domes. 
The  children's  household  guardian,  —  left,  when  earth's 
Dark  dread  he  underwent,   that  son  of  mine, — 
I,  with  their  mother,  lest  his  boys  should  die. 


338  HERAKLES. 

Sit  at  this  altar  of  the  savior  Zeus 

Which,  giory  of  triumphant  spear,  he  raised 

Conquering  —  my  nobly-born  !  —  the   Minuai. 

Here  do  we  guard  our  station,  destitute 

Of  all  things,  drink,  food,  raiment,  on  bare  ground 

Couched  side  by  side  :  sealed  out  of  house  and  home 

Sit  we  in  a  resourcelessness  of  help. 

Our  friends  —  why,  some  are  no  true  friends,  T  see  ! 

The  rest,  that  are  true,  want  the  means  to  aid. 

So  operates  in  man  adversity: 

Whereof  may  never  anybody  —  no, 

Though  half  of  him  should  really  wish  me  well,  — • 

Happen  to  taste !   a  friend-test  faultless,  that ! 

MEGARA. 

Old  man,  who  erst  didst  raze  the  Taphian  town, 

Illustriously,  the  army-leader,  thou, 

Of  speared  Kadmeians  —  how  gods  play  men  false  I 

I,  now,  missed  nowise  fortune  in  my  sire. 

Who,  for  his  wealth,  was  boasted  mighty  once, 

Having  supreme  rule,  —  for  the  love  of  which 


HERAKLES.  339 

Leap  the  long  lances  forth  at  favored  breasts, — 
And  having  children  too :   and  me  he  gave 
Thy  son,  his  house  with  that  of  Herakles, 
Uniting  by  the  far-famed  marriage-bed. 
And  now  these  things  are  dead  and  flo\vn  away, 
Wliile  thou  and  I  await  our  death,  old  man, 
These  Herakleian  boys  too,  whom  —  my  chicks  — 
I  save  beneath  my  wings  like  brooding  bird. 
But  one  or  other  falls  to  questioning, 
"  O  mother,"  cries  he,  "  where  in  all  the  world 
Is  father  gone  to  ?     \\T]at's  he  doing  ?  when 
Will  he  c^me  back  ? "     At  fault  through  tender  years, 
They  seek  their  sire.     For  me,  I  put  them  off, 
Telling  them  stories ;   at  each  creak  of  door. 
All  wonder,  "Does  he  come?" — and  all  afoot, 
Make  for  the  fall  before  the  parent  knee. 
Now  then,  what  hope,  what  method  of  escape 
Facilitatest  thou? — for,  thee,  old  man, 
I  look  to,  —  since  we  may  not  leave  by  stealth 
The  limits  of  the  land,  and  guards,  more  strong 
Than  we,  are  at  the  outlets ;  nor  in  friends 

ft 


34°  HERAKLES. 

Remain  to  us  the  hopes  of  safety  more. 
Therefore,  whatever  thy  decision  be, 
Impart  it  for  the  common  good  of  all ! 
Lest  now  should  prove  the  proper  time  to  die, 
Though,  being  weak,  we  spin  it  out  and  live. 

AMPHITRUON. 

Daughter,  it  scarce  is  easy,  do  one's  best, 
To  blurt  out  counsel,  things  at  such  a  pass. 

MEGARA. 

You  want  some  sorrow  more,  or  so  love  life  ? 

AMPHITRUON. 

r  both  enjoy  life,  and  love  hopes  beside. 

MEGARA. 

And  I ;  but  hope  against  hope  —  no,  old  man  1 

AMPHITRUON. 

In  these  delayings  of  an  ill  lurks  cure. 


HERAKLES.  341 

MEGARA. 

But  bitter  is  the  meantime,  and  it  bites. 

AMPHITRUON. 

O  there  may  be  a  run  before  the  wind 
From  out  these  present  ills,  for  me  and  thee, 
Daughter,  and  yet  may  come  my  son,  thy  spouse  ! 
But  hush !  and  from  the  children  take  away 
Their  founts  a-flow  with  tears,  and  talk  them  calm, 
Steal  them  by  stories  —  sad  theft,  all  the  same ! 
For,  human  troubles  —  they  grow  weary  too  ; 
Neither  the  wind-blasts  always  have  their  strength, 
Nor  happy  men  keep  happy  to  the  end: 
Since  all  things  change  —  their  natures  part  in  twain  ; 
And  that  man's  bravest,  therefore,  who  hopes  on, 
Hopes  ever :   to  despair  is  cowardly. 

CHORDS. 

These  domes  that  overroof, 

This  long-used  couch,  I  come  to,  having  made 


342  HERAKLES. 

A  Staff  my  prop,  that  song  may  put  to  proof 
The  swan-Hke  power,  age-whitened,  —  poet's  aid 
Of  sobbed-forth  dirges  —  words  that  stand  aloof 
From  action  now:    such  am  I  —  just  a  shade 
With  night  for  all  its  face,  a  mere  night-dream  — 
And  words  that  tremble  too :   howe'er  they  seem, 
, Devoted  words,  I  deem. 

O,  of  a  father  ye  unfathered  ones, 
O  thou  old  man,  and  thou  whose  groaning  stuns  — 
Unhappy  mother  —  only  us  above, 
Nor  reaches  him  below  in  Haides'  realm,  thy  love ! 
—  (Faint  not  too  soon,  urge  forward  foot  and  limb 
Way-weary,  nor  lose  courage  —  as  some  horse 
5  Yoked  to  the  car  whose  weight  recoils  on  him 
Just  at  the  rock-ridge  that  concludes  his  course  ! 
Take  by  the  hand,  the  peplos,  any  one 
Whose  foothold  fails  him,  printless  and  fordone ! 
Aged,  assist  along  me  aged  too, 
Who,  —  mate  with  thee  in  toils  when  life  was  new. 
And  shields  and  spears  first  made  acquaintanceship,  — 


HERAKLES.  343 

Stood  by  thyself  and  proved  no  bastard-slip 
Of  fatherland  when  loftiest  glory  grew.)  — 
See  now,  how  like  the  sire's 
Each  eyeball  fiercely  fires  ! 

What  though  ill-fortune  have  not  left  his  race  ? 
Neither  is  gone  the  grand  paternal  grace  ! 
Hellas  !     O  what  —  what  combatants,  destroyed 
In  these,  wilt  thou  one  day  seek  —  seek,  and  find  all 
void  1 

Pause !   for  I  see  the  ruler  of  this  land, 
Lukos,  now  passing  through  the  palace-gate. 

LUKOS. 

The  Herakleian  couple  —  father,  wife  — 
If  need  I  must,  I  question :  "  must "  forsooth  ? 
Being  your  master  —  all  I  please,  I  ask. 
To  what  time  do  you  seek  to  spin  out  life  ? 
What  hope,  what  help  see,  so  as  not  to  die? 
Is  it  you  trust  the  sire  of  these,  that's  sunk 
In  Haides,  will  return?     How  past  the  pitch. 


344  HERAKLES. 

Suppose  you  have  to  die,  you  pile  the  woe  — 
Thou,  casting,  Hellas  through,  thy  empty  vaunts 
As  though  Zeus  helped  thee  to  a  god  for  son  ; 
And  thou,  that  thou  wast  styled  our  best  man's  'vife 
Where  was  the  awful  in  his  work  wound  up, 
If  he  did  quell  and  quench  the  marshy  snake 
Or  the  Nemeian  monster  whom  he  snared 
And — says,  by  throttlings  of  his  arm,  he  slew? 
With  these  do  you  outwrestle  me?     Such  feats 
Shall  save  from  death  the  sons  of  Herakles 
Who  got  praise,  being  nought,  for  bravery 
In  wild-beast-battle,  otherwise  a  blank  ? 
No  man  to  throw  on  left  arm  buckler's  weight, 
Not  he,  nor  get  in  spear's  reach  !   bow  he  bore  — 
True  coward's  weapon  :   shoot  first  and  then  fly ! 
No  bow-and-arrow  proves  a  man  is  brave. 
But  who  keeps  rank,  —  stands,  one  unwinking  stare 
As,  ploughing  up,  the  darts  come,  —  brave  is  he. 
My  action  has  no  impudence,  old  man ! 
providence,  rather :   for  I  own  I  slew 
Kreon,  this  woman's  sire,  and  have  his  seat. 


HERAKLES.  345 

Nowise  I  wish,  then,  to  leave,  these  grown  up, 
Avengers  on  me,  payment  for  my  deeds. 

AMPHITRUON. 

As  to  the  part  of  Zeus  in  his  own  child. 

Let  Zeus  defend  that !     As  to  mine,  'tis  me 

The  care  concerns  to  show  by  argument 

The  folly  of  this  fellow,  —  Herakles, 

Whom  I  stand  up  for !    since  to  hear  thee  styled 

Cowardly  —  that  is  unendurable. 

First  then,  the  infamous  (for  I  account 

Amongst  the  words  denied  to  human  speech, 

Timidity  ascribed  thee,  Herakles  !) 

This  I  must  put  from  thee,  with  gods  in  proof. 

Zeus'  thunder  I  appeal  to,  those  four  steeds 

Whereof  he  also  was  the  charioteer 

When,  having  shot  down  the  earth's  Giant-growth  — 

(Never  shaft  flew  but  found  and  fitted  flank) 

Triumph  he  sang  in  common  with  the  gods. 

The  Kentaur-race,  four-footed  insolence  — 

Go  ask  at  Pholo^,  vilest  thou  of  kings, 


346  HERAKLES. 

Whom  they  would  pick  out  and  pronounce  best  man, 

If  not  my  son,  "  the  seeming  brave,"  say'st  thou ! 

But  Dirphus,  thy  Abantid  mother-town, 

Question  her,  and  she  would  not  praise,   t  think  ! 

For  there's  no  spot,  where  having  done  some  good. 

Thy  country  thou  mightst  call  to  witness  worth. 

Now,  that  allwise  invention,  archer's-gear. 

Thou  blamest :   hear  my  teaching  and  grow  sage  ! 

A  man  in  armor  is  his  armor's  slave, 

And,  mixed  with  rank  and  file  that  want  to  run, 

He  dies  because  his  neighbors  have  lost  heart. 

Then,  should  he  break  his  spear,  no  way  remains 

Of  warding  death  off,  —  gone  that  body-guard, 

His  one  and  only;   while,  whatever  folk 

Have    the    true    bow-hand,  —  here's    the    one     main 

good,  — 
Though  he  have  sent  ten  thousand  shafts  abroad, 
Others  remain  wherewith  the  archer  saves 
His  limbs  and  life,  too,  —  stands  afar  and  wards 
Away  from  flesh  the  foe  that  vainly  stares 
Hurt  by  the  viewless  arrow,  while  himself 


HERAKLES.  347 

Offers  no  full  front  to  those  opposite, 

But  keeps  in  thorough  cover :   there's  the  point 

That's  capital  in  combat — damage  foe, 

Yet  keep  a  safe  skin — foe  not  out  of  reach 

As  you  are !     Thus  my  words  contrast  with  thine, 

And  such,  in  judging  facts,  our  difference. 

These  children,  now,  why  dost  thou  seek  to  slay? 

What  have  they  done  thee  ?     In  a  single  point 

I  count  thee  wise  —  if,  being  base  thyself, 

Thou  dreadst  the  progeny  of  nobleness. 

Yet  this  bears  hard  upon  us,  all  the  same, 

If  we  must  die  —  because  of  fear  in  thee  — 

A  death  'twere  fit  thou  suffer  at  our  hands, 

Thy  betters,  did  Zeus  rightly  judge  us  all. 

If  therefore  thou  art  bent  on  sceptre-sway, 

Thyself,  here  —  suffer  us  to  leave  the  land, 

Fugitives !    nothing  do  by  violence. 

Or  violence  thyself  shalt  undergo 

VVlien  the  gods'  gale  may  chance  to  change  for  thee! 

Alas,  O  land  of  Kadmos,  —  for  'tis  thee 

I  mean  to  close  with,  dealing  out  the  due 


348  HERAKLES. 

Revilement,  —  in  such  sort  dost  thou  defend 

Herakles  and  his  children  ?     Herakles 

Who,  coming,  one  to  all  the  world,  against 

The  Minuai,  fought  them  and  left  Thebes  an  eye 

Unblinded  henceforth  to  front  freedom  with! 

Neither  do  I  praise  Hellas,  nor  shall  brook 

Ever  to  keep  in  silence  that  I  count 

Towards  my  son,  craven  of  cravens  ■ —  her 

Whom  it  behooved  go  bring  the  young  ones  here 

Fire,    spears,    arms  —  in    exchange    for   seas    made 

safe, 
And  cleansings  of  the  land,  his  labor's  price. 
But  fire,  spears,  arms,  —  O  children,  neither  Thebes 
Nor  Hellas  has  them  for  you  !   'Tis  myself, 
A  feeble  friend,  ye  look  to  :  nothing  now 
But  a  tongue's  muimur,  for  the  strength  is  gone 
We  had  once,  and  with  age  are  limbs  a-shake 
And  force  a-flicker!     Were  I  only  y<?ung, 
Still  with  the  mastery  o'er  bono  and  thew, 
Grasping  first  spear  that  came,  the  yellow  locks 
Of  this  iisulter  would  I  bloody  so  — 


HERAKLES.  349 

Should  send  him  skipping  o'er  the  Atlantic  bounds 
Out  of  my  arm's  reach  through  poltroonery! 

CHOROS. 

Have  not  the  really  good  folk  starting-pdints 

For  speech  to  purpose,  —  though  rare  talkers  they  ? 

LUKOS. 

Say  thou  against  us  words  thou  towerest  with! 

I,  for  thy  words,  will  deal  thee  blows,  their  due. 

Go,  some  to  Helikon,  to  Parnasos 

Some,  and  the  clefts  there !     Bid  the  woodmen  fell 

Oak-trunks,  and,  when  the  same  are  brought  inside 

The  city,  pile  the  altar  round  with  logs, 

Then  fire  it,  burn  the  bodies  of  them  all, 

That  they  may  learn  thereby,  no  dead  man  rules 

The  land  here,  but  'tis  I,  by  acts  like  these ! 

As  for  you,  old  sirs,  who  are  set  against 

My  judgments,  you  shall  groan  for  —  not  alone 

The  Herakleian  children,  but  the  fate 

Of  your  own  house  beside,  when  faring  ill 


3SO  HERAKLES. 

By  any  chance  :  and  you  shall  recollect 
Slaves  are  you  of  a  tyranny  that's  mine  1 

CHOROS. 

O  progeny  of  earth,  —  whom  Ares  sowed 

When  he  laid  waste  the  dragon's  greedy  jaw — 

Will  ye  not  lift  the  staves,  right-hand  supports, 

And  bloody  this  man's  irreligious  head? 

Who,  being  no  Kadmeian,  rules,  —  the  wretch,  — 

Our  easy  youth  :  an  interloper  too ! 

But  not  of  me,  at  least,  shalt  thou  enjoy 

Thy  lordship  ever;    nor  my  labor's  fruit, — 

Hand  worked  so  hard  for,  —  have  !    A  curse  with  thee, 

Whence  thou  didst  come,  there  go  and  tyrannize  ! 

For  never  while  I  live  shalt  thou  destroy 

The  Herakleian  children :   not  so  deep 

Hides  he  below  ground,  leaving  thee  their  lord ! 

But  we  bear  both  of  you  in  mind,  —  that  thou. 

The  land's  destroyer,  dost  possess  the  land, 

Wliile  he  who  saved  it,  loses  every  right. 

/"play  the  busy-body — for  I  serve 


HERAKLE^.  35 1 

My  dead  friends  when  they  need  friends'  service  most? 
O  right-hand,  how  thou  yearnest  to  snatch  spear 
And  serve  indeed  !   in  weakness  dies  the  wish, 
Or  I  had  stayed  thee  calling  me  a  slave. 
And  nobly  drawn  my  breath  at  home  in  Thebes 
Where  thou  exultest !  —  city  that's  insane, 
Sick  through  sedition  and  bad  government, 
Else  never  had  she  gained  for  master  —  thee ! 

MEGARA. 

Old  friends,  I  praise  you :  since  a  righteous  wrath 

For  friend's  sake  well  becomes  a  friend.     But  no ! 

On  our  account  in  anger  with  your  lord, 

Suffer  no  injury  !     Hear  my  advice, 

Amphitruon,  if  I  seem  to  speak  aright. 

O  yes,  I  love  my  children !  how  not  love 

What  I  brought  forth,  what  toiled  for  ?  and  to  die  — 

Sad  I  esteem  too ;  still,  the  fated  way 

Who  stiffens  him  against,  that  man  I  count    ' 

Poor  creature  ;   us,  who  are  of  other  mood, 

Since  we  must  die,  behooves  us  meet  our  death 


352  HERAKLES. 

Not  burnt  to  cinders,  giving  foes  the  laugh  — 

To  me,  worse  ill  than  dying,  that !   we  owe 

Our  houses  many  a  brave  deed,  now  to  pay. 

Thee,  indeed,  gloriously  men  estimate 

For  spear-work,  so  that  unendurable 

Were  it  that  thou  shouldst  die  a  death  of  shame. 

And  for  my  glorious  husband,  where  wants  he 

A  witness  that  he  would  not  save  his  boys 

If  touched  in  their  good  fame  thereby?     since  birth 

Bears  ill  with  baseness  done  for  children's  sake, 

—  My  husband  needs  must  be  my  pattern  here  ! 

See  now  thy  hope  —  how  much  I  count  thereon' 

Thou  thinkest  that  thy  son  will  come  to  light : 

And,  of  the  dead,  who  came  from  Hades  back? 

But  we  with  talk  this  man  might  mollify : 

Never !     Of  all  foes,  fly  the  foolish  one  ! 

Wise,  well-bred  people,  make  concession  to ! 

Sooner  you  meet  respect  by  speaking  soft. 

Already  it  was  in  my  mind  —  perchance 

We  might  beg  off  these  children's  banishment ; 

But  even  that  is  sad  —  involving  them 


HERAKLES.  353 

In  safety,  ay —  and  piteous  poverty  ! 

Since  the  host's  visage  for  the  flying  friend 

Has,  only  one  day,  the  sweet  look,  'tis  said. 

Dare  with  us  death,  which  awaits  thee,  dared  or  no ! 

We  call  on  thine  ancestral  worth,  old  man  I 

For  who  out-labors  what  the  gods  appoint, 

Shows  energy,  but  energy  gone  mad. 

Since  what  must  —  none  e'er  makes  what  must  not  be. 

CHOROS. 

Had  any  one,  while  yet  my  arms  were  strong, 
Been  scorning  thee,  he  easily  had  ceased. 
But  we  are  nought,  now ;   thine  henceforth  to  see  — 
Amphitruon,  how  to  push  aside  these  fates  ! 

AMPHITRUON. 

Nor  cowardice  nor  a  desire  of  life 

Stops  me  from  dying :   but  I  seek  to  save 

My  son  his  children.     Vain  !     I  set  my  heart, 

It  seems,  upon  impossibility. 

See,  it  is  ready  for  the  sword,  this  throat 


354  HERAKLES. 

To  pierce,  divide,  dash  down  from  precipice  1 
But  one  grace  grant  us,  king,  we  supplicate ! 
Slay  me  and  this  unhappy  one  before 
The  children,  lest  we  see  them  —  impious  sight !  — 
Gasping  the  soul  forth,  calling  all  the  while 
On  mother  and  on  father's  father  !     Else, 
Do  as  thy  heart  inclines  thee !     No  resource 
Have  we  from  death,  and  W2  resign  ourselves. 

MEGARA. 

And  I  too  supplicate :   add  grace  to  grace, 

And,  though  but  one  man,  doubly  serve  us  both! 

Let  me  bestow  adornment  of  the  dead 

Upon  these  children  !     Throw  the  palace  wide  I 

For  now  we  are  shut  out.     Thence  these  shall  share 

At  least  so  much  of  wealth,  was  once  their  sire's  1 

LUKOS. 

These  things  shall  be.     Withdraw  the  bolts,  I  bid 
My  servants  !     Enter  and  adorn  yourselves  ! 
I  grudge  no  peploi ;   but  when  these  ye  wind 


HERAKLES.  355 

About  your  bodies,  —  that  adornment  done,  — 
Then  I  shall  come  and  give  you  to  the  grave. 

MEGARA. 

O  children,  follow  this  unhappy  foot, 
Your  mother's,  into  your  ancestral  home, 
Where  others  have  the  power,  are  lords  in  truth, 
Although  the  empty  name  is  left  us  yet! 

AMPHITRUON. 

O  Zeus,  in  vain  I  had  thee  marriage-mate. 
In  vain  I  called  thee  father  of  my  child  ! 
Thou  wast  less  friendly  far  than  thou  didst  seem, 
I,  the  mere  man,  o'ermatch  in  virtue  thee 
The  mighty  god:  for  I  have  not  betrayed 
The  Herakleian  children,  —  whereas  thou 
Hadst  wit  enough  to  come  clandestinely 
Into  the  chamber,  take  what  no  man  gave, 
Another's -place  ;   and  when  it  comes  to  help 
Thy  loved  ones,  there  thou  lackest  wit  indeed  I 
Thou  art  some  stupid  god,  or  born  unjust 


356  HERAKLES. 

CHOROS. 

Even  a  dirge,  can  Phoibos  suit 
In  song  to  music  jubilant 
For  all  its  sorrow:   making  shoot 
His  golden  plectron  o'er  the  lute, 
Melodious  ministrant. 
And  I,  too,  am  of  mind  to  raise, 
Despite  the  imminence  of  doom, 
A  song  of  joy,  outpour  my  praise 
To  him  —  what  is  it  rumor  says  ?  — 
Whether — now  buried  in  the  ghostly  gloom 
Below  ground,  —  he  was  child  of  Zeus  indeed. 
Or  mere  Amphitruon's  mortal  seed  — 
To  him  I  weave  the  wreath  of  song,  his  labor's  meed. 
For,  is  my  hero  perished  in  the  feat? 
The  virtues  of  brave  toils,  in  death  complete. 
These  save    the    dead  in  song,  —  their   glory-garland 
meet! 

First,  then,  he  made  the  wood 
Of  Zeus  a  solitude. 


HERAKLES.  '  357 

Slaying  its  lion-tenant ;   and  he  spread 

The  tawniness  behind  —  his  yellow  head 

Enmuffled  by  the  brute's,  backed  by  that  grin  of  dread. 

The  mountain-roving  savage   Kentaur-race 

He  strewed  with  deadly  bow  about  their  place, 

Slaying  with  winged  shafts  :    Peneios  knew, 

Beauteously-eddying,  and  the  long  tracts  too 

Of  pasture  trampled  fruitless,  and  as  well 

Those  desolated  haunts  Mount  Pelion  under, 

And,  grassy  up  to  Homole,  each  dell 

Whence,    having    filled    their    hands    with    pine-tree 

plunder, 
Horse-like  was  \^nt  to  prance  from,  and  subdue 
The  land  of  Thessaly,  that  bestial  crew. 
The  golden-headed  spot-backed  stag  he  slew, 
That  robber  of  the  rustics  :   glorified 
Therewith  the  goddess  who  in  hunter's  pride 
Slaughters  the  game  along  Oinod's  side. 
And,  yoked  abreast,  he  brought  the  chariot-breed 
To  pace  submissive  to  the  bit,  each  steed 
That  in  the  bloody  cribs  oj.  Diqnaede 


3S8  HERAKLES. 

Champed  and,  unbridled,  hurried  down  that  gore 

For  grain,  exultant  the  dread  feast  before  — 

Of  man's  flesh :   hideous  feeders  they  of  yore  1 

All  as  he  crossed  the  Hebros'  silver-flow 

Accomplished  he  such  labor,  toiling  so 

For  Mukenaian  tyrant;   ay,  and  more  — 

He  crossed  the  Melian  shore 

And,  by  the  sources  of  Amauros,  shot 

To  death  that  strangers'-pest 

Kuknos,  who  dwelt  in  Amphanaia :   not 

Of  fame  for  good  to  guest ! 

And  next,  to  the  melodious  maid^he  came. 
Inside  the  Hesperian  court-yard :   hand  must  aim 
At  plucking  gold  fruit  from  the  appled  leaves. 
Now  he  had  killed  the  dragon,  backed  like  flame, 
Who  guards  the  unapproachable  he  weaves 
Himself  all  round,  one  spire  about  the  same. 
And  into  those  sea-troughs  of  ocean  dived 
The  hero,  and  for  mortals  calm  contrived, 
Whatever  oars  shoxild  follow  in  his  wake. 


HERAKLES.  359 

And  under  heaven's  mid-seat  his  HSnds  thrust  he, 

At  home  with  Atlas  :    and,  for  valor's  sake, 

Held  the  gods  up  their  star-faced  mansionry. 

Also,  the  rider-host  of  Amazons 

About  Maiotis  many-streamed,  he  went 

To  conquer  through  the  billo^vy  Euxeine  once, 

Having  collected  what  an  armament 

Of  friends  from  Hellas,  all  on  conquest  bent 

Of  that  gold-garnished  cloak,  dread  girdle-chase  1 

So  Hellas  gained  the  girl's  barbarian  grace 

And  at  Mukenai  saves  the  trophy  still  — 

Go  wonder  there,  who  will  1 

And  the  ten  thousand-headed  hound 

Of  many  a  murder,  the  Lemaian  snake 

He  burned  out,  head  by  head,  and  cast  around 

His  darts  a  poison  thence,  —  darts  soon  to-  slake 

Their  rage  in  that  three-bodied  herdsman's  gore 

Of  Erutheia.     Many  a  running  more 

He  made  for  triumph  and  felicity, 

And,  last  of  toils,  to  Haides,  never  dry 


360  HERAKLES. 

Of  tears,  he  sailed :   and  there  he,  luckless,  ends 

His  life  completely,  nor  returns  again. 

The  house  and  home  are  desolate  of  friends, 

And  where  the  children's  life-path  leads  them,  plain 

I  see,  —  no  step  retraceable,  no  god 

Availing,  and  no  law  to  help  the  lost ! 

The  oar  of  Charon  marks  their  period. 

Waits  to  end  all.     Thy  hands,  these  roofs  accost !  — 

To  thee,  though  absent,  look  their  uttermost! 

But  if  in  youth  and  strength  I  flourished  still, 

Still  shook  the  spear  in  fight,  did  power  match  will 

In  these  Kadmeian  co-mates  of  my  age. 

They  would,  —  and  I,  —  when  warfare  was  to  wage. 

Stand  by  these  children;   but  I  am  bereft 

Of  youth  now,  lone  of  that  good  genius  left! 

But  hist,  desist!  for  here  come  these, — 
Draped  as  the  dead  go,  under  and  over,  — 
Children  long  since,  —  now  hard  to  discover,  — 
Of  the  once  so  potent  Herakles  I 


HERAKLES.  361 

And  the  loved  wife  dragging,  in  one  tether 
About  her  feet,  the  boys  together; 
And  the  hero's  aged  sire  comes  last ! 
Unhappy  that  I  am  !     Of  tears  which  rise,  — 
How  am  I  all  unable  to  hold  fast, 
Longer,  the  aged  fountains  of  these  eyes ! 

MEGARA. 

Be  it  so !     Who  is  priest,  who  butcher  here 

Of  these  ill-fated  ones,  or  stops  the  breath 

Of  me,  the  miserable  ?     Ready,  see, 

The  sacrifice  —  to  lead  where  Haides  lives  ! 

O  children,  we  are  led  —  no  lovely  team 

Of  corpses  —  age,  youth,  motherhood,  all  mixed! 

0  sad  fate  of  myself  and  these  my  sons 
Whom  with  these  eyes  I  look  at,  this  last  timel 
I,  indeed,  bore  you :   but  forj  enemies 

1  brought  you  up  to  be  a  laughing-stock, 
Matter  for  merriment,  destruction-stu£E  1 
Woe's  me ! 

Strangely  indeed  my  hopes  have  struck  me  dowQ 


362  •    HERAKLES. 

From  what  I  used  to  hope  about  you  once  — 

The  expectation  from  your  father's  talk  ! 

For  thee,  now,  thy  dead  sire  dealt  Argos  to : 

Thou  wast  to  have  Eurusthei.s'  house  one  day. 

And  rule  Pelasgia  where  the  fine  fruits  grow ; 

And,  for  a  stole  of  state,  he  wrapped  about 

Thy  head  with  that  the  lion-monster  bore, 

That  which  himself  went  wearing  armor-wise. 

And  thou  wast  King  of  Thebes  —  such  chariots  there ' 

Those  plains  I  had  for  portion  —  all  for  thee. 

As  thou  hadst  coaxed  them  out  of  who  gave  birth 

To  thee,  his  boy:   and  into  thy  right  hand 

He  thrust  the  guardian-club  of  DaidaloS, — 

Poor  guardian  proves  the  gift  that  plays  thee  false  1 

And  upon  thee  he  promised  to  bestow 

Oichalia  —  what,  with  those  far-shooting  shafts, 

He  ravaged  once  ;  and  so,  since  three  you  were. 

With  threefold  kingdoms  did  he  build  you  up 

To  very  towers,  your  father, — proud  enough, 

Prognosticating,  from  your  manliness 

In  boyhood,  what  the  manhood's  self  would  be. 


HERAKLES.  363 

For  my  part,  I  was  picking  out  for  you 
Brides,  suiting  each  with  his  alliance  —  this 
From  Athens,  this  from  Spart^,  this  from  Thebes  -  •- 
Whence,  suited  —  as  stem-cables  steady  ship  — 
You  might  have  hold  on  life  gods  bless.     All  gone ! 
Fortune  turns  round  and  gives  us — you,  the  Fates 
Instead  of  brides  —  me,  tears  for  nuptial  baths. 
Unhappy  in  my  hoping !     And  the  sire 
Of  your  sire  —  he  prepares  the  marriage-feast 
Befitting  Haides  who  plays  father  now  — 
Bitter  relationship  !     Oh  me  !   which  first  — 
Which  last  of  you  shall  I  to  bosom  fold  ? 
To  whom  shall  I  fit  close,  his  mouth  to  mine? 
Of  whom  shall  I  lay  hold  and  ne'er  let  go? 
How  would  I  gather,  like  the  brown-winged  bee. 
The  groans  from  all,  and,  gathered  into  one. 
Give  them  you  back  again,  a  crowded  tear  ! 
Dearest,  if  any  voice  be  heard  of  men 
Dungeoned  in  Haides,  thee  —  to  thee  I  speak  1 
Here  is  thy  father  dying,  and  thy  boys! 
And  I  too  perish,  famed  as  fortunate 


364  HERAKLES. 

By  mortals  once,  through  thee  !    Assist  them  !    Come ! 
But  come  !   though  just  a  shade,  appear  to  me ! 
For,  coming,  thy  ghost-grandeur  would  suffice, 
Such  cowards  are  they  in  thy  presence,  these 
Who  kill  thy  children  now  thy  back  is  turned  ! 

AMPHITRUON. 

Ay,  daughter,  bid  the  powers  below  assist! 

But  I  will  rather,  raising  hand  to  heaven, 

Call  thee  to  help,  O  Zeus,  if  thy  intent 

Be,  to  these  children,  helpful  anyway. 

Since  soon  thou  wilt  be  valueless  enough  ! 

And  yet  thou  hast  been  called  and  called ;   in  vain 

I  labor :  for  we  needs  must  die,  it  seems. 

Well,  aged  brothers — life's  a  little  thing! 

Such  as  it  is,  then,  pass  life  pleasantly 

From  day  to  night,  nor  once  grieve  all  the  while  ! 

Since  Time  concerns  him  not  about  our  hopes,  — 

To  save  them, — but  his  own  work  done,  flies  off. 

Witness  myself,  looked  up  to  among  men, 

Doing  noteworthy  deeds  :   when  here  comes  fate 


HRRAKLES.  Zfi^ 

Lifts  me  away,  like  feather  skyAvard  borne, 
In  one  day  !     Riches  then  and  glory,  —  whom 
These  are  found  constant  to,  I  know  not.     Friends, 
Farewell !    the  man  who  loved  you  all  so  much. 
Now,  tl^as  last  time,  my  mates,  ye  look  upon ! 


MEGARA. 

Ha! 

O  father,  do  I  see  my  dearest?     Speak! 


AMPHITRUON. 

No  more  than  thou  canst,  daughter  —  dumb  like  thee ! 

MEGARA. 

Is  this  he  whom  we  heard  was  underground  ? 

AMPHITRUON. 

Unless  at  least  some  dream  in  day  we  see  ! 

MEGARA. 

What  do  I  say  ?   what  dreams  insanely  view  ? 
This  is  no  other  than  thy  son,  old  sire  I 


366  HERAKLES. 

Here,  children !   hang  to  these  paternal  robes, 
Quick,  haste,  hold  hard  on  him,  since  here's  your  true 
Zeus  that  can  save  —  and  every  whit  as  well ! 

HERAKLES. 

O  hail,  my  palace,  my  hearth's  propula,  — 

How  glad  I  see  thee  as  I  come  to  light ! 

Ha,  what  means  this  ?     My  children  I  behold 

Before  the  house  in  garments  of  the  grave, 

Chapleted,  and,  amid  a  crowd  of  men, 

My  very  wife  —  my  father  weeping  too. 

Whatever  the  misfortune!     Come,  best  take 

My  station  nearer  these  and  learn  it  all ! 

Wife,  what  new  sorrow  has  approached  our  home? 

MEGARA. 

O  dearest !   light  flashed  on  thy  father  now  ! 

Art  thou  come  ?   art  thou  saved  and  dost  thou  fall 

On  friends  in  their  supreme  extremity? 

HERAKLES. 

How  say'st  thou?     Father!  what's  the  trouble  here? 


HERAKLES.  367 

MEGARA. 

Undone  are  we  !  —  but  thou,  old  man,  forgive 
If  first  I  snatch  what  thou  shouldst  say  to  him  ! 
For  somehow  womanhood  wakes  pity  more. 
Here  are  my  children  killed  and  I  undone ! 

HERAKLES. 

Apollon,  with  what  preludes  speech  begins ! 

HEGARA. 

Dead  are  my  brothers  and  old  father  too. 

HERAKLES. 

How   say'st    thou  ?  —  doing   what  ?  —  by   spear-stroke 
whence  ? 

MEGARA. 

Lukos  destroyed  them  —  the  land's  noble  king! 

HERAKLES. 

Met  them  in  arms  ?   or  through  the  land's  disease  ? 

« 


368  HERAKLES. 

MEGARA. 

Sedition  :   and  he  sways  seven-gated  Thebes. 

HERAKLES. 

Why  then  came  fear  on  the  old  man  and  thee  ? 

MEGARA. 

He  meant  to  kill  thy  father,  me,  our  boys. 

HERAKLES. 

How  say'st  thou  ?     Fearing  what  from  orphanage  ? 

MEGARA. 

Lest  they  should  some  day  pay  back  Kreon's  death. 

HERAKLES. 

And  why  trick  out  the  boys  corpse-fashion  thus  ? 

MEGARA. 

These  wraps  of  death  we  have  already  donned. 


HERAKLES.  369 

HERAKLES. 

Ajid  you  had  died  through  violence  ?    Woe's  me ! 

MEGARA. 

Left  bare  of  friends :   and  thou  wast  dead,  we  heard 

HERAKLES. 

And  whence  came  on  you  this  faintheartedness? 

MEGARA. 

The  heralds  of  Eurustheus  brought  the  news. 

HERAKLES. 

And  why  was  it  you  left  my  house  and  hearth  ? 

MEGARA. 

Forced  thence  :   thy  father  —  from  his  very  couch ! 

HERAKLES. 

And  no  shame  at  insulting  the  old  man? 


370  HERAKLES. 

MEGARA. 

Shame,  truly  1  no  near  neighbors  he  and  Shame  I 

HERAKLES. 

And  so  much,  in  my  absence,  lacked  I  friends? 

MEGARA. 

Friends, — are  there  any  to  a  luckless  man? 

HERAKLES. 

The  Minuai-war  I  waged,  —  they  spat  forth  these  * 

MEGARA. 

Friendless,  —  again  I  tell  thee,  —  is  ill-luck. 

HERAKLES. 

Will  not  you  cast  these  hell-wraps  from  your  hair 
And  look  on  light  again,  and  with  your  eyes 
Taste  the  sweet  change  from  nether  dark  to  day? 
While  I — for  now  there  needs  my  handiwork  — 
First  I  shall  go,  demolish  the  abodes 


HERAKLES.  37 1 

Of  these  new  lordships;   next  hew  off  the  head 

Accurst  and  toss  it  for  the  dogs  to  trail. 

Then,  such  of  the  Kadmeians  as  I  find 

Were  craven  though  they  owed  me  gratitude, — 

Some  I  intend  to  handle  with  this  club 

Renowned  for  conquest  \   and  with  winged  shafts 

Scatter  the  others,  fill  Ismenos  full 

With  bloody  corpses,  —  Dirkd's  flow  so  white 

Shall  be  incarnadined.     For,  whom,  I  pray, 

Behooves  me  rather  help  than  wife  and  child 

And  aged  father  ?     Farewell,  "  Labors  "  mine ! 

Vainly  I  wrought  them :   my  true  work  lay  here  1 

My  business  is  to  die  defending  these, — 

If  for  their  father's  sake  they  meant  to  die. 

Or  how  shall  we  call  brave  the  battling  it 

With  snake  and  lion,  as  Eurustheus  bade, 

If  yet  I  must  not  labor  death  away 

From  my  own  children?     "Conquering  Herakles" 

Folks  will  not  call  me  as  they  used,  I  think!  \ 

The  right  thing  is  for  paicnts  to  assist 

Children,  old  age,  the  partner  of  the  couch. 


372  HERAKLES. 

AMPIIIl'RUON. 

True,  son !   thy  duty  is  —  be  friend  to  friends 
And  foe  to  foes :   yet  —  no  more  haste  than  needs  1 

HERAKLES. 

Why,  father,  what  is  over-hasty  here? 

AMPHITRUON. 

Many  a  pauper,  —  seeming  to  be  rich, 

As  the  word  goes,  —  the  king  calls  partisan. 

Such  made  a  riot,  ruined  Thebes  to  rob 

Their  neighbor:   for,  what  good  they  had  at  home 

Was  spent  and  gone  —  flew  off  through  idleness. 

You  came  to  trouble  Thebes,  they  saw:   since  seen, 

Beware  lest,  raising  foes,  a  multitude, 

You  stumble  where  you  apprehend  no  harm. 

HERAKLES. 

If  all  Thebes  saw  me,  not  a  whit  care  I. 
But  seeing  as  I  did  a  certain  bird 


HERAKLES.  373 

Not  in  the  lucky  seats,  I  knew  some  woe 
Was  fallen  upon  the  house :   so,  purposely, 
By  stealth  I  made  my  way  into  the  land. 

AMPHITRUON. 

And  now,  advancing,  hail  the  hearth  with  praise 
And  give  the  ancestral  home  thine  eye  to  see! 
For  he  himself  will  come,  thy  wife  and  sons 
To  drag-forth  —  slaughter  —  slay  me  too,  —  this  king ! 
But,  here  remaining,  all  succeeds  with  thee  — 
Gain  lost  by  no  false  step.     So,  this  thy  town 
Disturb  not,  son,  ere  thou  right  matters  here! 


HERAKLES. 

Thus  will  I  do,  for  thou  say'st  well ;   my  home 
Let  me  first  enter !     Since  at  the  due  time 
Returning  from  the  unsunned  depths  where  dwells 
Haides'  wife  Kord,  let  me  not  affront 
Those  gods  beneath  my  roof,  I  first  should  hail  1 


374  HERAKLES. 

AMPHITRUON. 

For  didst  thou  really  visit  Haides,  son? 

HERAKLES, 

Ay  —  dragged  to  light,  too,  his  three-headed  beast 

AMPHITRUON. 

By  fight,  didst  conquer  —  or  through  Kor^'s  gift? 


^  HERAKLES, 

Fight:   well  for  me,  I  saw  the  Orgies  first! 


AMPHITRUON, 

And  is  he  in  Eurustheus'  house,  the  brute? 

HERAKLES. 

Chthonia's  grove,  Hermion's  city,  holds  him  now. 

AMPHITRUON. 

Does  not  Eurustheus  know  thee  back  on  earth  ? 


HERAKLES.  375 

HERAKLES. 

No:   I  would  come  first  and  see  matters  here. 

AMPHITRUON. 

But  how  wast  thou  below  ground  such  a  time? 

HERAKLES. 

I  Stopped,  from  Haides,  bringing  Theseus  up. 

AMPHITRUON. 

And  where  is  he  ?  —  bound  o'er  the  plain  for  home  ? 

HERAKLES. 

( 

Gone  glad  to  Athens  —  Haides'  fugitive! 

But,  up,  boys  !   follow  father  into  house ! 
There's  a  far  better  going-in  for  you 
Truly,  than  going-out  was !     Nay,  take  hear^ 
And  let  the  eyes  no  longer  run  and  run ! 
And  thou,  O  wife,  my  own,  collect  thy  soul 


376  .  HERAKLES. 

Nor  tremble  now !     Leave  grasping,  all  of  you, 

My  garments  !    I'm  not  winged,  nor  fly  from  friends  I 

Ah,— 

No  letting  go  for  these,  who  all  the  more 

Hang  to  my  garments !     Did  you  foot  indeed 

The  razor's  edge?    Why,  then  I'll  carry  them  — 

Take  with  my  hands  these  small  craft  up,  and  tow 

Just  as  a  ship  would.     There  !   don't  fear  I  shirk 

My  children's  service  !   this  way,  men  are  men, 

No  difference !   best  and  worst,  they  love  their  boys 

After  one  fashion :   wealth  they  differ  in  — 

Some  have  it,  others  not ;   but  each  and  all 

Combine  to  form  the  children-loving  race. 

CHOROS. 

Youth  is  a  pleasant  burthen  to  me ; 

But  age  on  my  head,  more  heavily 

Than  the  crags  of  Aitna,  weighs  and  weighs, 

And  darkening  cloaks  the  lids  and  intercepts  the  rays 

Never  be  mine  the  preference 

Of  an  Asian  empire's  wealth,  nor  yet 


HERAKLES.  Z11 

Of  a  house  all  gold,  to  youth,  to  youth 

That's  beauty,  whatever  the  gods  dispense ! 

Wliether  in  wealth  we  joy,  or  fret 

Paupers,  —  of  all  God's  gifts  most  beautiful,  in  truth  ! 

But  miserah'le  murderous  age  I  hate  ! 
Let  it  go  to  wreck,  the  waves  adown, 
Nor  ever  b}'  rights  plague  tower  or  town 
Where  mortals  bide,  but  still  elate 
With  wings,  on  ether,  precipitate, 
Wander  them  round  —  nor  wait ! 

But  if  the  gods,  to  man's  degree. 

Had  wit  and  wisdom,  they  would  bring 

Mankind  a  twofold  youth,  to  be 

Their  virtue's  sign-mark,  all  should  see, 

In  those  with  whom  life's  winter  thus  grew  spring. 

For  when  they  died,  into  the  sun  once  more 

Would  they  have  traversed  twice  life's  racecourse  o'e^  • 

While  ignobility  had  simply  run 

Existence  through,  nor  second  life  begun. 


57^  HERAKLES. 

And  so  might  we  discern  both  bad  and  good 

As  surely  as  the  starry  multitude 

Is  numbered  by  the  sailors,  one  and  one. 

But  now  the  gods  by  no  apparent  line 

Limit  the  worthy  and  the  base  define ; 

Only,  a  certain  period  rounds,  and  so 

Brings  man  more  wealth,  —  but  youtlifui  vigor,  no  I 

Well !    I  am  not  to  pause 

Mingling  together — wine  and  wine  in  cup  — 

The  Graces  with  the  Muses  up  — 

Most  dulcet  marriage :   loosed  from  music's  laws. 

No  life  for  me ! 

But  where  the  wreaths  abound,  there  ever  may  I  be ! 

And  still,  an  aged  bard,  I  shout  MnemosuntJ  — 

Still  chant  of  Herakles  the  triumph-chant, 

Companioned  by  the  seven-stringed  tortoise-shell 

And  Libuan  flute,  and  Bromios'  self  as  well, 

God  of  the  grape,  with  man  participant ! 

Not  yet  will  we  arrest  their  glad  advance  — 

The  Muses  who  so  long  have  led  me  forth  to  dance  I 


HERAKLES.  379 

A  paian  —  hymn  the  Delian  girls  indeed, 

Weaving  a  beauteous  measure  in  and  out 

His  temple-gates,  Latona's  goodly  seed  ; 

And  paians  —  I  too,  these  thy  domes  about, 

From    these    gray   cheeks,   my    king,    will    swan-like 

shout  — 
Old  songster  !     Ay,  in  song  it  starts  off  brave  —  •^. 
"  Zeus'  son  is  he  !  "    and  yet,  such  grace  of  birth 
Surpassing  far,  to  man  his  labors  gave 
Existence,  one  calm  flow  without  a  wave, 
Having  destroyed  the  beasts,  the  terrors  of  the  earth. 


LUKOS. 

From  out  the  house  Amphitruon  comes  —  in  time  ! 
For  'tis  a  long  while  now  since  ye  bedecked 
Your  bodies  with  the  dead-folks'  finery. 
But  quick  !    the  boys  and  wife  of  Herakles  — 
Bid  them  appear  outside  this  house,  keep  pact 
To  die,  and  need  no  bidding  but  your  own ! 


380  HERAKLES. 

AMPHITRUON. 

King !   you  press  hard  on  me  sore-pressed  enough, 
And  give  me  scorn  —  beside  my  dead  ones  here. 
Meet  in  such  matters  were  it,  though  you  reign, 
To  temper  zeal  with  moderation.     Since 
You  do  impose  on  us  the  need  to  die  — 
Needs  must  we  love  our  lot,  obey  your  will. 

LUKOS. 

Where's  Megara,  then  ?    Alkmend's  grandsons,  where  ? 

AMPHITRUON. 

She,  I  think,  —  as  one  figures  from  outside, — 

LUKOS. 

Well,  this  same  thinking,  —  what  affords  its  ground  ? 

AMPHITRUON. 

>—  Sits  suppliant  on  the  holy  altar-steps,  — 

LUKOS. 

Idly  indeed  a  suppliant  to  save  life  1 


HERAKLES.  381 

AMPHITRUON. 

—  And  calls  on  her  dead  husband,  vainly  too ! 

LUKOS. 

For  he's  not  come,  nor  ever  will  arrive. 

AMPHITRUON. 

Never — at  least,  if  no  god  raise  him  up. 

LUKOS. 

Go  to  her,  and  conduct  her  from  the  house ! 

AMPHITRUON. 

I  should  panake  the  murder,  doing  that 

LUKOS. 

We,  —  since  thou  hast  a  scruple  in  the  case,  — 
Outside  of  fears,  we  shall  march  forth  these  lads, 
Mother  and  all.     Here,  follow  me,  my  folk  — 
A.nd  gladly  so  remove  what  stops  our  toils  1 


382  HERAKLES. 

AMPHITRUON. 

Thou  —  go  then  !     March  where  needs  must  1      What 

remains  — 
Perhaps  concerns  another.     Doing  ill, 
Expect  some  ill  be  done  thee  ! 

Ha,  old  friends  ! 
On  he  strides  beautifully !   in  the  toils 
O'  the  net,  where  swords  spring  forth,  will  he  be  fast  — 
Minded  to  kill  his  neighbors  —  the  arch-knave  1 
I  go,  too  —  I  must  see  the  falling  corpse  ! 
For  he  has  sweets  to  give  —  a  dying  man, 
Your  foe,  that  pays  the  price  of  deeds  he  did. 

CHORDS. 

Troubles  are  over!     He  the  great  king  once. 
Turns  the  point,  tends  for  Haides,  goal  of  life ! 
O  justice,  and  the  gods'  back-flowing  fate  ! 

AMPHITRUON. 

Thou  art  come,  late  indeed,  where  death  pays  crime— 
These  insults  heaped  on  better  than  thyself! 


HERAKLES.  3^3 

CHORDS. 

Joy  gives  this  outburst  to  my  tears !     Again 
Come  round  those  deeds,  his  doing,  which  of  old 
He  never  dreamed  himself  was  to  endure  — 
King  of  the  country !     But  enough,  old  man ! 
Indoors,  now,  let  us  see  how  matters  stand  — 
If  somebody  be  faring  as  I  wish  1 

LUKOS. 

Ah  me  —  me! 

CHOROS. 

Tliis  strikes  the  keynote  —  music  to  my  mind. 
Merry  i'  the  household !     Death  takes  up  the  tune  I 
The  king  gives  voice,  groans  murder's  prelude  well ! 

LUKOS. 

O,  all  the  land  of  Kadmos !  slain  by  guile  I 


384  HERAKLES. 

CHOROS. 

Ay,  for  who  slew  first?     Paying  back  thy  due, 
Resign  thee !   make,  for  deeds  done,  mere  amends ! 
Who  was  it  grazed  the  gods  through  lawlessness  — 
Mortal  himself,  threw  up  his  fools'-conceit 
Against  the  blessed  heavenly  ones  —  as  though 
Gods  had  no  power  ?    Old  friends,  the  impious  man 
Exists  not  any  more !     The  house  is  mute. 
Turn  we  to  song  and  dance !     For,  those  I  love, 
Those  I  wish  well  to,  well  fare  they,  to  wish ! 

Dances,  dances  and  banqueting 

To  Thebes,  the  sacred  city  through, 

Are  a  care  1   for,  change  and  change 

Of  tears  to  laughter,  old  to  new. 

Our  lays,  glad  birth,  they  bring,  they  bring  I 

He  is  gone  and  past,  the  mighty  king ! 

And  the  old  one  reigns,  returned  —  O  strange  I 

From  the  Acherontian  harbor  too  ! 

Advent  of  hope,  beyond  thought's  widest  range  I 


HERAKLES.  385 

To  the  gods,  the  gods  are  crimes  a  care, 
And  they  watch  our  virtue,  well  aware 
That  gold  and  that  prosperity  drive  man 
Out  of  his  mind — those  charioteers  who  hale 
Might-without-right  behind  them:   face  who  can 
Fortune's  reverse  which  time  prepares,  nor  quail  ? 
—  He  who  evades  law  and  in  lawlessness 
Delights  him,  —  he  has  broken  down  his  trust  — 
The   chariot,   riches   haled  —  now  blackening  in   the 
dust! 

Ismenos,  go  thou  garlanded ! 

Break  into  dance,  ye  ways,  the  polished  bed 

O'  the  seven-gated  city!   Dirk^,  thou 

Fair-flowing,  with  the  Asoplad  sisters  all. 

Leave  your  sire's  stream,  attend  the  festival 

Of  Herakles,  one  choir  of  nymphs,  sing  triumph  now  1 

O  woody  rock  of  Puthios  and  each  home 

O'  the  Helikonian  Muses,  ye  shall  come 

With  joyous  shouting  to  my  walls,  my  town 

Where  saw  the  light  that  Spartan  race,  those  "  Sown," 


586  HERAKLES. 

&"azen-shielcl-bearing  chiefs,  whereof  the  band 

With  children's  children  renovates  our  land, 

To  Thebes  a  sacred  light! 

O  combination  of  the  marriage  rite  — 

Bed  of  the  mortal-born  and  Zeus,  who  couched 

Beside  the  nymph  of  Perseus'  progeny  ! 

For  credible,  past  hope,  becomes  to  me 

That  nuptial  story  long  ago  avouched, 

O  Zeus !   and  time  has  turned  the  dark  to  bright, 

And  made  one  blaze  of  truth  the  Herakleidan  might 

His,  who  emerged  from  earth's  pavilion,  left 

Plouton's  abode,  the  nether  palace-cleft. 

Thou  wast  the  lord  that  nature  gave  me  —  not 

That  baseness  born  and  bred  —  my  king,  by  lot ! 

—  Baseness  made  plain  to  all,  who  now  regard 

The  match  of  sword  with  sword  in  fight,  — 

If  to  the  gods  the  Just  and  Right 

Still  pleasing  be,  still  claim  the  palm's  award. 

Horror ! 

Are  we  come  to  the  selfsame  passion  of  iear, 


HERAKLES.  Z^l 

Old  friends?  —  such  a  phantasm  fronts  me  here 

Visible  over  the  palace-roof ! 

In  flight,  in  flight,  the  laggard  limb 

Bestir !   and  haste  aloof 

From  that  on  the  roof  there  —  grand  and  grim  I 

O  Paian,  king ! 

Be  thou  my  safeguard  from  the  woful  thing! 

IRIS. 

Courage,  old  men  !   beholding  here  —  Night's  birth   « 

Madness,  and  me  the  handmaid  of  the  gods. 

Iris :   since  to  your  town  we  come,  no  plague  — 

Wage  war  against  the  house  of  but  one  man 

From  Zeus  and  from  Alkmen^  sprung,  they  say. 

Now,  till  he  made  an  end  of  bitter  toils, 

Fate  kept  him  safe,  nor  did  his  father  Zeus 

Let  us  once  hurt  him.  Here  nor  myself. 

But,  since  he  has  toiled  through  Eurustheus'  task, 

Here  desires  to  fix  fresh  blood  on  him  — 

Slaying  his  children :    I  desire  it  too. 


388  HERAKLES. 

Up  then,  collecting  the  unsoftened  heart, 
Unwedded  virgin  of  black  Night !     Drive,  drag 
Frenzy  upon  the  man  here  —  whirls  of  brain 
Big  with  child-murder,  while  his  feet  leap  gay ! 
Let  go  the  bloody  cable  its  whole  length ! 
So  that,  —  when*  o'er  the  Acherousian  ford 
He  has  sent  floating,  by  self-homicide, 
His  beautiful  boy-garland,  —  he  may  know 
First,  Herd's  anger,  what  it  is  to  him. 
And  then  learn  mine.     The  gods  are  vile  indeed 
And  mortal  matters  vast,  if  he  'scape  free ! 

MADNESS. 

Certes,  from  well-born  sire  and  mother  too 

Had  I  my  birth,  whose  blood  is  Night's  and  Heaven's 

But  here's  my  glory,  —  not  to  grudge  the  good ! 

Nor  love  I  raids  against  the  friends  of  man. 

I  wish,  then,  to  persuade, — before  I  see 

You  stumbling,  you  and  Herd  !    trust  my  words  1 

This  man,  the  house  of  whom  ye  hound  me  to, 


HERAKLES.  389 

Is  not  unfamed  on  earth  nor  gods  among  ; 
Since,  having  quelled  waste  land  and  savage  sea, 
He  alone  raised  again  the  falling  rights 
Of  gods  —  gone  ruinous  through  impious  men. 
Desire  no  mighty  mischief,  I  advise  1 

IRIS. 

Give  thou  no  thought  to  Herd's  faulty  schemes! 

MADNESS. 

Changing  her  step  from  faulty  to  fault-free  1 

IRIS. 

Not  to  be  wise,  did  Zeus'  wife  send  thee  here  ! 

MADNESS. 

Sun,  thee  I  cite  to  witness  —  doing  what  I  loath  to  do ! 
But  since  indeed  to  Herd  and  thyself  I  must  subserve, 
And   follow,  you  quick,  with   a   whizz,  as  the   hounds 
a-hunt  with  the  huntsman, 


39©  HERAKLES. 

—  Go  I  will !  and  neither  the  sea,  as  it  groans  with  its 

waves  so  furiously, 
Nor  earthquake,  no,  nor  the  bolt  of  thunder  gasping 

out  heaven's  labor-throe, 
Shall  cover  the  ground  as   I,  at   a   bound,  rush   into 

the  bosom  of  Herakles  ! 
And  home  I  scatter,  and  house  I  batter, 
Having  first  of  all  made  the  children  fall, — 
And  he  who  felled  them  is  never  to  know 
He  gave  birth  to  each  child  that  received  the  blow, 
Till  the  Madness,  I  am,  have  let  him  go ! 

Ha,  behold,  already  he  rocks  his  head — he  is  ofi 
from  the  starting-place  ! 

Not  a  word,  as  he  rolls  his  frightful  orbs,  from  their 
sockets  wrenched  in  the  ghastly  race ! 

And  the  breathings  of  him  he  tempers  and  times  no 
more  than  a  bull  in  act  to  toss. 

And  hideously  he  bellows  invoking  the  Keres,  daugh- 
ters of  Tartaros. 

Ay,  and  I  soon  will  dance  thee  madder,  and  pipe 
thee  quite  out  of  thy  mind  with  fearl 


HERAKLES.  39' 

So,    up   with    the    famous    foot,  thou    Iris,  march    to 

Olumpos,  leave  me  here ! 
Me  and  mine,  who  now  combine,  in  the  dreadful  shape 

no  mortal  sees, 
And  now  are  about  to  pass,  from   without,  inside   of 

the  home  of  Herakles ! 

CHORDS. 

Otototoi,  —  groan  !     Away  is  mown 
Thy  flower,  Zeus'  offspring,  City! 
Unhappy  Hellas,  who  dost  cast  (the  pity !) 
Who  worked  thee  all  the  good, 
Away  from  thee,  —  destroyest  in  a  mood 
Of  Madness  him,  to  death  whom  pipings  dance ! 
There  goes  she,  in  her  chariot, — groans,  her  brood, — 
And  gives  her  team  the  goad,  as  thougn  adrift 
For  doom.  Night's  Gorgon,  Madness,  she  whose  glance 
Turns  man  to  marble  !   with  what  hissings  lift 
Their  hundred  heads  the    snakes,  her  head's  inherit- 
ance ! 
Quick  has  the  god  changed  fortune  :    through  their  sire 


392  HERAKLES. 

Quick  will  the  children,  that  he  saved,  expire  ! 
O  miserable  me  !     O  Zeus  !   thy  child  — 
Childless  himself — soon  vengeance,  hunger-wild, 
Craving  for  punishment,  will  lay  how  low — 
Loaded  with  many  a  woe ! 

O  palace-roofs!    your  courts  about, 

A  measure  begins  all  unrejoiced 

By  the  tympanies  and  the  thyrsos  hoist 

Of  the  Bromian  revel-rout ! 

O  ye  domes  !   and  the  measure  proceeds 

For  blood,  not  such  as  the  cluster  bleeds 

Of  the  Dionusian  pouring-out ! 

Break  forth,  fly,  children!   fatal  this — 

Fatal  ^he  lay  that  is  piped,  I  wis ! 

Ay,  for  he  hunts  a  children-chase  — 

Never  shall  madness  lead  her  revel 

And  leave  no  trace  in  the  dwelling-place  I 

Ai  ai,  because  of  the  evil! 

Ai  ai,  the  old  man  —  how  I  groan 


HERAKLES.  393 

For  the  father,  and  not  the  father  alone! 
She  who  was  nurse  of  his  children,  —  small 
Her  gain  that  they  ever  were  born  at  all ! 

See  !     See  ! 

A  whirlwind  shakes  hither  and  thither 
The  house  —  the  roof  falls  in  together  ! 
Ha,  ha,  what  dost  thou,  son  of  Zeus  ? 
A  trouble  of  Tartaros  broke  loose, 
Such  as  once  Pallas  on  the  Titan  thundered, 
Thou  sendest  on  thy  domes,  roof-shattered  and  wall- 
sundered  !  , 

MESSENGER. 

0  bodies  white  with  age!  — 

CHORDS. 

What  cry,  to  me  — 
What,  dost  thou  call  with? 

MESSENGER. 

There's  a  curse  indoors  1 


394  HERAKLES. 

CHOROS. 
I  shall  not  bring  a  prophet :   you  suffice  ! 

MESSENGER. 

Dead  are  the  children  1 

CHORDS. 

Ai  ai! 

MESSENGER. 

Groan  !   for,  groans 
Suit  well  the  subject  I     Dire  the  children's  death, 
Dire  too  the  parent's  hands  that  dealt  the  fate. 
No  one  could  tell  worse  woe  than  we  have  borne] 

CHORDS. 

How  dost   thou    that   same    curse  —  curse,  cause   for 

groan  — 
The  father's  on  the  children,  make  appear  ? 
roll  in  what  matter  they  were  hurled  from  heaven 
Against  the  house  —  these  evils  ;  and  recount 
The  children's  hapless  fate,  O  Messenger  1 


HERAKLES.  395 


MESSENGER, 


The  victims  were  before  the  hearth  of  2^us, 

A  household-expiation :   since  the  king 

O'  the  country,  Herakles  had  killed  and  cast 

From  out  the  dwelling ;   and  a  beauteous  choir 

Of  boys  stood  by  his  sire,  too,  and  his  wife. 

And  now  the  basket  had  been  carried  round 

The  altar  in  a  circle,  and  we  used 

The  consecrated  speech.     Alkmen^'s  son,  — 

Just  as  he  was  about,  in  his  right  hand, 

To  bear  the  torch,  that  he  might  dip  into 

The  cleansing-water,  —  came  to  a  stand-still ; 

And,  as  their  father  yet  delayed,  his  boys 

Had  their  eyes  on  him.     But  he  was  himself 

No  longer :   lost  in  rollings  of  the  eyes ; 

Out-thrusting  eyes  —  their  very  roots  —  like  blood  I 

Froth  he  dropped  down  his  bushy-bearded  cheek, 

\nd  said,  —  together  with  a  madman's  laugh  — 

"  Father  !   why  sacrifice,  before  I  slay 

F.urustheus?  why  have  twice  the  lustral  fire. 


396  HERAKLES. 

And  double  pains,  when  'tis  permittfd  me 
To  end,  with  one  good  hand-sweep,  matters  here  ? 
Then,  —  when  I  hither  bring  Eurustheus'  head,  — 
Then  for  these  just  slain,  wash  hands  once  for  all ! 
Now,  —  cast  drink-offerings  forth,  throw  baskets  down  ! 
Who  gives  me  bow  and  arrows,  who  my  club  ? 
I  go  to  that  Mukenai!     One  must  match 
Crowbars  and  mattocks,  so  that — those  sunk  stones 
The  Kuklops  squared  with  picks  and  plumb-line  red  — 
I,  with  my  bent  steel,  may  o'ertumble  town  ! " 
Which  said,  he  goes  and,  —  with  no  car  to  have  — 
Affirms  he  has  one  !    mounts  the  chariot-board. 
And  strikes,  as  having  really  goad  in  hand  ! 
And  two  ways  laughed  the  servants  —  laugh  with  awe; 
And  one  said,  as  each  met  the  other's  stare, 
"Playing  us  boys'  tricks?  or  is  master  mad?" 
But  up  he  climbs,  and  down  along  the  roof, 
And,  dropping  into  the  men's  place,  maintains 
He's  come  to  Nisos  city,  when  he's  come 
Only  inside  his  own  house!  then  reclines 
On  floor,  for  couch,  and,  as  arrived  indeed, 


HERAKLES.  397 

Makes  himself  supper ;  goes  through  some  brief  stay 

Then  says  he's  traversing  the  forest-flats 

Of  Isthmos ;    thereupon  lays  body  bare 

Of  bucklings,  and  begins  a  contest  with 

■ —  No  one  !  and  is  proclaimed  the  conqueror  — 

He  by  himself — having  called  out  to  hear 

—  Nobody  !     Then,  if  you  will  take  his  word, 

Blaring  against  Eurustheus  horribly. 

He's  at  Mukenai.     But  his  father  laid 

Hold  of  the  strong  hand  and  addressed  him  thus : 

"  O  son,  what  ails  thee  ?     Of  what  sort  is  this 

Extravagance  ?     Has  not  some  murder-craze, 

Bred  of  those  corpses  thou  didst  just  despatch. 

Danced  thee  drunk  ?  "  But  he,  —  taking  him  to  crouch, 

Eurustheus'  sire,  that  apprehensive  touched 

His  hand,  a  suppliant, — pushes  him  aside. 

Gets  ready  quiver,  and  bends  bow  against 

His  children  —  thinking  them  Eurustheus'  boys 

He  means  to  slay.     They,  horrified  with  fear. 

Rushed  here  and  there,  —  this  child,  into  the  robes 

O'  the  wretched  mother  —  this,  beneath  the  shade 


398  HERAKLES. 

O'  the  column,  —  and  this  other,  like  a  bird, 
Cowered  at  the  altar-foot.     The  mother  shrieks 
"Parent  —  what  dost  thou?  —  kill  thy  children?"   Sc 
Shriek  the  old  sire  and  crowd  of  servitors. 
But  he,  outwinding  him,  as  round  about 
The  column  ran  the  boy,  —  a  horrid  whirl 
O'  the  lathe  his  foot  described !  —  stands  opposite, 
Strikes  through  the  liver !    and  supine  the  boy 
Bedews  the  stone  shafts,  breathing  out  his  life. 
But  "  Victory  "  he  shouted !  boasted  thus  : 
"  Well,  this  one  nestling  of  Eurustheus  —  dead  — 
Falls  by  me,  pays  back  the  paternal  hate ! " 
Then  bends  bow  on  another  who  was  crouched 
At  base  of  altar  —  overlooked,  he  thought  — 
And  now  prevents  him,  falls  at  father's  knee. 
Throwing  up  hand  to  beard  and  cheek  above. 
"  O  dearest !  "  cries  he  "  father,  kill  me  not ! 
Yours,  I  am — your  boy:    not  Eurustheus'  boy 
You  kill  now  !  "     But  he,  rolling  the  wild  eye 
Of  Gorgon,  —  as  the  boy  stood  all  too  close 
For  deadly  bowshot,  —  mimicry  of  smith 


HERAKLES.  599 

Who  batters  red-hot  iron, — hand  o'er  head 

Heaving  his  club,  on  the  boy's  yellow  hair 

Hurls  it  and  breaks  the  bone.     This  second  caught,— 

He  goes,  would  slay  the  third,  one  sacrifice 

He  and  the  couple ;  but,  beforehand  here. 

The  miserable  mother  catches  up. 

Carries  him  inside  house  and  bars  the  gate. 

Then  he,  as  he  were  at  those  Kuklops'  work. 

Digs  at,  heaves  doors  up,  wrenches  doorposts  out, 

Lays  wife  and  child  low  with  the  selfsame  shaft. 

And  this  done,  at  the  old  man's  death  he  drives; 

But  there  came,  as  it  seemed  to  us  who  saw, 

A  statue  —  Pallas  with  the  crested  head, 

Swinging  her  spear — and  threw  a  stone  which  smote 

Herakles'  breast  and  stayed  his  slaughter-rage, 

And  sent  him  safe  to  sleep.     He  falls  to  ground  — 

Striking  against  the  column  with  his  back  — 

Column  which,  with  the  falling  of  the  roof, 

Broken  in  two,  lay  by  the  altar-base. 

And  we,  foot-free  now  from  our  several  flights. 

Along  with  the  old  man,  we  fastened  bonds 


400  HERAKLES. 

Of  rope-noose  to  the  column,  so  that  he, 

Ceasing  from  sleep,  might  not  go  adding  deeds 

To  deeds  done.     And  he  sleeps  a  sleep,  poor  wretch, 

No  gift  of  any  god  !   since  he  has  slain 

Children  and  wife.     For  me,  I  do  not  know 

What  mortal  has  more  misery  to  bear. 

CHORDS. 

A  murder  there  was  which  Argolis 

Holds  in  remembrance,  Hellas  through, 

As,  at  that  time,  best  and  famousest : 

Of  those,  the  daughters  of  Danaos  slew. 

A  murder  indeed  was  that !   but  this 

Outstrips  it,  straight  to  the  goal  has  pressed. 

I  am  able  to  speak  of  a  murder  done 

To  the  hapless  Zeus-born  offspring,  too  — 

Proknd's  son,  who  had  but  one  — 

Or  a  sacrifice  to  the  Muses,  say 

Rather,  who  Itus  sing  alway, 

Her  single  child !     But  thou,  the  sire 

Of  children  three  —  O  thou  consuming  fire  1  — 


HERAKLES.  ^o^ 

In  one  outrageous  fate  hast  made  them  all  expire ! 

And  this  outrageous  fate  — 

WTiat  groan,  or  wail,  or  deadmen's  dirge, 

Or  choric  dance  of  Haides  shall  I  urge 

The  Muse  to  celebrate? 

Woe  !   woe  !   behold  ! 

The  portalled  palace  lies  unrolled. 

This  way  and  that  way,  each  prodigious  fold! 

Alas  for  me  !    these  children,  see, 

Stretched,  hapless  group,  before  their  father  —  he 

The  all-unhappy,  who  lies  sleeping  out 

The  murder  of  his  sons,  a  dreadful  sleep  ! 

And  bonds,  see,  all  about, — 

Rope-tangle,  ties  and  tether,  —  these 

Tightenings  around  the  body  of  Herakles 

To  the  stone  columns  of  the  house  made  fasti 

But  —  like  a  bird  that  grieves 

For  callow  nestlings,  some  rude  hand  bereaves  — 

See,  here,  a  bitter  journey  over-past. 

The  old  man  —  all  too  late  —  is  here  at  last! 


4Q2  HERAKLES. 


AMPHITRUON. 


Silently,  silently,  aged  Kadmeians  ! 
Will  ye  not  suffer  my  son,  diffused 
Yonder,  to  slide  from  his  sorrows  in  sleep  ? 


CHOROS. 


And  thee,  old  man,  do  I,  groaning,  weep, 

And  the  children  too,  and  the  head  there  —  used 

Of  old  to  the  wreaths  and  paians  ! 

AMPHITRUON. 

Farther  away !     Nor  beat  the  breast, 
Nor  wail  aloud,  nor  rouse  from  rest 
The  slumberer  —  asleep,  so  best ! 

CHOROS. 

Ah  me  —  what  a  slaughter  ! 

AMPHITRUON. 

Refrain  —  refrain  1 
Ye  will  prove  my  perdition  1 


HERAKLES.  ,403 

CHOROS. 

Unlike  water, 
Bloodshed  rises  from  earth  again ! 

AMPHITRUON. 

Do  I  bid  you  bate  your  breath,  in  vain  — 
Ye  elders  ?     Lament  in  a  softer  strain  ! 
Lest  he  rouse  himself,  burst  every  chain, 
And  bury  the  city  in  ravage  —  bray 
Father  and  house  to  dust  away  1 

CHORDS. 

I  cannot  forbear — I  cannot  forbear  1 

AMPHITRUON. 

Hush  !  I  will  learn  his  breathings :   there ! 
I  will  lay  my  ears  close. 

CHOROS. 

Wba^  be  sleeps? 


404  HERAKLES. 

AMPHITRUON. 

Ay,  —  sleeps  !     A  horror  of  slumber  keeps 

The  man  who  has  piled 

On  wife  and  child 

Death  and  death,  as  he  shot  them  down 

With  clang  o'  the  bow. 

CHORDS. 

Wail  — 


AMPHITRUON. 


CHOROS. 

•The  fate  of  the  children  — 


Even  sol 


AMPHITRUON. 

Triple  woel 


CHORDS. 

Old  man,  the  fate  of  thy  son  1 


HERAKLES.  40S 


AMPHITRUON. 


Hush,  hush !     Have  done  I 

He  is  turning  about ! 

He  is  breaking  out  I 

Away !    I  steal 

And  my  body  conceal, 

Before  he  arouse, 

In  the  depths  of  the  house! 

CHORDS. 

Courage  !     The  Night 

Maintains  her  right 

On  the  lids  of  thy  son  there,  sealed  from  sight! 

AMPHITRUON. 

See,  see !    To  leave  the  light 

And,  wretch  that  I  am,  bear  one  last  ill, 

I  do  not  avoid ;  but  if  he  kill 

Me  his  own  father,  and  devise 

Beyond  the  present  miseries 


4o6  HERAKLES. 

A  misery  more  ghastly  still  — 
And  to  haunt  him,  over  and  above 
Those  here  who,  as  they  used  to  love, 
Now  hate  him,  what  if  Jie  have  with  these 
My  murder,  the  worst  of  Erinues? 

CHOROS. 

Then  was  the  time  to  die,  for  thee, 

When  ready  to  wreak  in  the  full  degree 

Vengeance  on  those 

Thy  consort's  foes 

Who  murdered  her  brothers!  glad,  life's  close, 

With  the  Taphioi  down. 

And  sacked  their  town 

Clustered  about  with  a  wash  of  sea! 

AMPHITRUON. 

To  flight  — to  flight! 

Away  from  the  house,  troop  off,  old  men  I 

Save  yourselves  out  of  the  maniac's  sight  I 


HERAKLES.  407 

He  is  rousing  himself  right  up  :   and  then, 

Murder  on  murder  heaping  anew, 

He  will  revel  in  blood  your  city  through ! 

CHORDS. 

0  Zeus,  why  hast,  with  such  unmeasured  hate, 
Hated  thy  son,  whelmed  in  this  sea  of  woes  ? 

HERAKLES. 

Hah,— 

In  breath  indeed  I  am  —  see  things  I  ought  — 
^ther,  and  earth,  and  these  the  sunbeam-shafts ! 
But  then  —  some  billow  and  strange  whirl  of  sense 

1  have  fallen  into !    and  breathings  hot  I  breathe  — 
Smoked  upwards,  not  the  steady  work  from  lungs. 
See  now  !    Why  bound, —  at  moorings  like  a  ship, — ■ 
About  my  young  breast  and  young  arm,  to  this 
Stone  piece  of  carved  work  broke  in  half,  do  I 

IT 

Sit,  have  my  rest  in  corpses'  neighborhood  ? 
Strewn  on  the  ground  are  winged  darts,  and  bow 
Which  played  my  brother-shieldman^  held  in  hand. — 


4o8  HERAKLES. 

Guarded  my  side,  and  got  my  guardianship  I 
I  cannot  have  gone  back  to  Haides  —  twice 
Begun  Eurustheus'  race  I  ended  thence? 
But  I  nor  see  the  Sisupheian  stone, 
Nor  Plouton,  nor  Demeter's  sceptred  maid ! 
I  am  struck  witless  sure !     Where  can  I  be  ? 
Ho  there!   what  friend  of  mine  is  near  or  far  — 
Some  one  to  cure  me  of  bewilderment? 
For  nought  familiar  do  I  recognize. 

AMPHITRUON. 

Old  friends,  shall  I  go  close  to  these  my  woes? 

CHORDS. 

Ay,  and  let  me  too,  —  nor  desert  your  ills ! 

HERAKLES. 

Father,  why  weepest  thou,  and  buriest  up 
Thine  eyes,  aloof  so  from  thy  much-loved  son? 

AMPHITRUON. 

O  child !  —  for,  faring  badly,  mine  thou  art  I 


HERAKLES.  4^9 

HERAKLES. 

Do  I  fare  somehow  ill,  that  tears  should  flow? 

AMPHITRUON. 

Ill, —  would  cause  any  god  who  bore,  to  groan! 

HERAKLES. 

That's  boasting,  truly!   still,  you  state  no  hap. 

AMPHITRUON. 

For,  thyself  seest  — if  in  thy  wits  again.        ^^"^  ^-^''' 

HERAKLES. 

.Heyday!     How  riddlingly  that  hint  returns  1 

AMPHITRUON. 

Well,  I  am  trying — art  thou  sane  and  sound! 

HERAKLES. 

Say  if  thou  lay'st  aught  strange  to  my  life's  charge ! 


41  o  HERAKLES. 

AMPHITRUON. 

If  thou  no  more  art  Haides-drunk, — I  tell! 

HERAKLES. 

I  bring  to  mind  no  drunkenness  of  soul. 

AMPHITRUON. 

Shall  I  unbind  my  son,  old  men,  or  what? 

HERAKLES. 

And  who  was  binder,  tell !  —  not  that^  my  deed  I 

AMPHITRUON. 

Mind  that  much  of  misfortune  —  pass  the  rest  1 

HERAKLES. 

Enough  1  from  silence,  I  nor  learn  nor  wish. 

AMPHITRUON. 

O  Zeus,  dost,  witness  here  throned  Her^'S;  work  ? 


HERAKLES.  411 

HERAKLES. 

But  have  I  had  to  bear  aught  hostile  thence? 

AMPHITRUON. 

Let  be  the  goddess  —  bury  thine  own  guilt  I 

HERAKLES. 

Undone!     What  is  the  sorrow  thou  wilt  say?     ,, 

AMPHITRUON. 

Look !     See  the  ruins  of  thy  children  here ! 

HERAKLES. 

Ah  me !     What  sight  do  wretched  I  behold  ? 

AMPHITRUON. 

Unfair  fight,  son,  this  fight  thou  fastenedst 
On  thine  own  children ! 

HERAKLES. 

What  fight?    Who  slew  these? 


4X2  HERAKLES. 

.     AMPHITRUON. 

Thou  and  thy  bow,  and  who  of  gods  was  cause. 

HERAKLES. 

How  say'st  ?    What  did  I  ?     Ill-announcing  sire  ! 

AMPHITRUON. 

-^  Go  mad !     Thou  askest  a  sad  clearing  up  ! 

HERAKLES. 

And  am  I  also  murderer  of  my  wife  ? 

AMPHITRUON. 

All  the  work  here  was  just  one  hand's  work — thine  I 

HERAKLES. 

Ai  ai — for  groans  encompass  me — a  cloud! 

AMPHITRUON. 

For  these  deeds'  sake  do  I  begroan  thy  fate ! 


HERAKLES.  413 

HERAKLES. 

Did  I  break  up  my  house  or  dance  it  down? 

AMPHITRUON. 

I  know  just  one  thing  —  all's  a  woe  with  thee  I 

HERAKLES. 

But  where  did  the  craze  catch  me?    where  destroy? 

AMPHITRUON. 

When  thou  didst  cleanse  hands  at  the  altar-flame. 

HERAKLES. 

Ah  me  I  why  is  it  then  I  save  my  life  — 

Proved  murderer  of  my  dearest  ones,  my  boys? 

Shall  not  I  rush  to  the  rock-level's  leap, 

Or,  darting  sword  through  breast  and  all,  become 

My  children's  blood-avenger?  or,  this  flesh 

Burning  away  with  fire,  so  thrust  away 

The  infamy,  which  waits  me  there,  from  life? 


414  HERAKLES. 

Ah,  but,  —  a  hindrance  to  my  purposed  death, 
Theseus  arrives,  my  friend  and  kinsman,  here  I 
Eyes  will  be  on  me  !  my  child-murder-plague 
In  evidence  before  friends  loved  so  much! 

0  me,  what  shall  I  do?    Where,  taking  wing 
Or  gliding  underground,  shall  I  seek  out 

A  solitariness  from  misery? 

1  will  pull  night  upon  my  muffled  head ! 

Let  this  wretch  here  content  him  with  his  curse 
Of  blood  :   I  would  pollute  no  innocents ! 

THESEUS. 

I  come,  —  with  others  who  await  beside 
Asopos'  stream,  the  armed  Athenian  youth, — 
Bring  thy  son,  old  man,  spear's  fight-fellowship  I 
For  a  bruit  reached  the  Erectheidai's  town 
That,  having  seized  the  sceptre  of  this  realm, 
Lukos  prepares  you  battle-violence. 
So,  paying  good  back, —  Herakles  began. 
Saving  me  down  there,  —  I  have  come,  old  man, 
If  aught,  of  my  hand  or  my  friends',  you  want. 


HERAKLES.  415 

What's  here  ?    Why  all  these  corpses  on  the  ground  ? 
Am  I  perhaps  behindhand  —  come  too  late 
For  newer  ill  ?    Who  killed  these  children  now  ? 
Whose  wife  was  she,  this  woman  I  behold  ? 
Boys,  at  least,  take  no  stand  in  reach  of  spear! 
Some  other  woe  than  war,  I  chance  upon ! 

AMPHITRUON. 

O  thou,  who  sway'st  the  olive-bearing  height !  — 

THESEUS. 

Why  hail'st  thou  me  with  woful  prelude  thus  ? 

AMPHITRUON. 

Dire  sufferings  have  we  suffered  from  the  gods. 

THESEUS. 

These  boys,  —  who  are  they,  thou  art  weeping  o'er? 

AMPHITRUON. 

He  gave  them  birth,  indeed,  my  hapless  son! 
Begot,  but  killed  them  —  dared  their  bloody  death. 


41 6  HERAKLES. 

THESEUS. 
Speak  no  such  horror! 


AMPHITRUON. 

Would  I  might  obey! 


THESEUS. 

O  teller  of  dread  tidings! 


AMPHITRUON. 

Lost  are  we- 


Lost  —  flown  away  from  life  ! 


What  did  he? 


THESEUS. 

What  sayest  thoui 

AMPHITRUON. 


Erring  through  a  frenzy-fit, 
He  did  all,  with  the  arrows  dipped  in  dye 
Of  hundred-headed  Hudra. 


HERAKLES.  417 

THESEUS. 

Herd's  strife  ! 
But  who  is  this  among  the  dead,  old  man? 

AMPHITRUON. 

Mine,  mine,  this  progeny  —  the  labor-plagued. 
Who  went  with  gods  once  to  Phlegruia's  plain, 
And  in  the  giant-slaying  war  bore  shield ! 

THESEUS. 

Woe  —  woe  !     What  man  was  born  mischanceful  thus  I 

AMPHITRUON. 

Thou  couldst  not  know  another  mortal  man 
Toil-weary,  more  outworn  by  wanderings. 

THESEUS. 

And  why  i'  the  peploi  hides  he  his  sad  head? 

AMPHITRUON. 

Not  daring  meet  thine  eye,  thy  friendliness 
And  kinship, — nor  that  children's-blood  about! 


41 8  HERAKLES. 


THESEUS. 

But  /  come  to  who  shared  my  woe  with  me  I 
Uncover  him  ! 

AMPHITRUON. 

O  child,  put  from  thine  eyes 
The  peplos,  throw  it  off,  show  face  to  sun ! 
Woe's   weight  well    matched   contends  with   tears   in 

thee. 
I  supplicate  thee,  falling  at  thy  cheek 
And  knee  and  hand,  and  shedding  this  old  tear  I 

0  son,  remit  the  savage  lion's  mood, 
Since  to  a  bloody,  an  unholy  race 
Art  thou  led  forth,  if  thou  be  resolute 
To  go  on  adding  ill  to  ill,  my  child! 

THESEUS. 

Let  me  speak  !    Thee,  who  sittest  —  seated  woe  — 

1  call  upon  to  show  thy  friends  thine  eye ! 
For  there's  no  darkness  has  a  cloud  so  black 
May  hide  thy  misery  thus  absolute.       •  • 


HERAKLES.  41^ 

Why,  waving  hand,  dost  sign  me  —  murder's  done? 
Lest  a  pollution  strike  me,  from  thy  speech? 
Nought  care  I  to  —  with  thee,  at  least  —  fare  ill : 
For  I  had  joy  once!     Then, — soul  rises  to, — 
WTicn  thou  didst  save  me  from  the  dead  to  light ! 
Friends'  gratitude  that  tastes  old  age,  I  loathe^ 
And  him  who  likes  to  share  when  things  look  fine, 
But,  sail  along  with  friends  in  trouble — no! 
Arise,  uncover  thine  unhappy  head! 
Look  on  us  !     Every  man  of  the  right  race 
Bears  what,  at  least,  the  gods  inflict,  nor  shrinks. 

HERAKLES. 

Theseus,  hast  seen  this  match  —  my  boys  with  me? 

THESEUS. 

I  heard  of,  now  I  see  the  ills  thou  sign'st 

HERAKLES. 

Why  then  hast  thou  displayed  my  head  to  sun? 


42  o  HERAKLES, 

THESEUS. 

Why?   mortals  bring  no  plague  on  aught  divine  I 

HERAKLES. 

Fly,  O  unhappy,  me  —  an  impious  plague  ! 

THESEUS. 

No  plague  of  vengeance  flits  to  friends  from  friends 

HERAKLES. 

I  praise  thee!     But  I  helped  thee, — that  is  truth. 

THESEUS. 

And  I,  advantaged  then,  now  pity  thee. 

HERAKLES. 

•—The  pitiable, — my  children's  murderer  I 

THESEUS. 

I  mourn  for  thy  sake,  in  this  altered  lot. 


HERAKLES.  421 

HERAKLES. 

Hast  thou  found  others  in  still  greater  woe? 

THESEUS. 

Thou,  from  earth,  touchest  heaven,  one  huge  distress ! 

HERAKLES. 

Accordingly,  I  am  prepared  to .  die. 

THESEUS. 

Think'st  thou  thy  threats  at  all  import  the  gods  ? 

HERAKLES. 

Gods  please  themselves  :   to  gods  I  give  their  like. 

THESEUS. 

Shut  thy  mouth,  lest  big  words  bring  bigger  woel 

HERAKLES. 

I  am  full  fraught  with  ills  —  no  stowing  more  1 


422  HERAKLES. 

THESEUS, 

Thou  wilt  do  —  what,  then  ?     Whither  moody  borne  ? 

HERAKLES. 

Dying,  I  go  below  earth  whence  I  came. 

THESEUS. 

Thou  hast  used  words  of  —  what  man  turns  up  first ' 

HERAKLES. 

While  thou,  being  outside  sorrow,  schoolest  me. 

THESEUS. 

The  much-enduring  Herakles  talks  thus  ?  — 

HERAKLES. 

Not  the  so  much-enduring :   measure's  past  1 

THESEUS. 

—  Mainstay  to  mortals,  and  their  mighty  friend? 


HERAKLES.  H^S 

HERAKLES. 

They  nowise  profit  me :   but  Her^  rules. 

THESEUS. 

Hellas  forbids  thou  shouldst  ineptly  die. 

HERAKLES. 

But  hear,  then,  how  I  strive  by  arguments 
Against  thy  teachings !     I  will  ope  thee  out 
My  life  —  past,  present  —  as  unlivable. 
First,  I  was  bom  of  this  man,  who  had  slain 
His  mother's  aged  sire,  and,  sullied  so, 
Married  Alkmene,  she  who  gave  me  birth. 
Now,  when  the  basis  of  a  family 
Is  not  laid  right,  what  follows  needs  must  fall ; 
And  Zeus,  whoever  Zeus  is,  formed  me  foe 
To  Here  (take  not  thou  offence,  old  man  ! 
Since  father,  in  Zeus'  stead,  account  I  thee) 
And,  while  I  was  at  suck  yet,  frightful  snakes 
She  introduced  among  my  swaddling-clothes,  — 
That  bed-fellow  of  Zeus !  —  to  end  me  so. 


424  HERAKLES. 

But  when  I  gained  the  youthful  garb  of  flesh, 

The  laborij  I  endured  —  what  need  to  tell  ? 

What  lions  ever,  or  three-bodied  brutes, 

Tuphons  or  giants,  or  the  four-legged  swarms 

Of  Kentaur-battle,  did  not  I  end  out? 

And  that  hound,  headed  all  about  with  heads 

Which  cropped  up  twice,  the  Hudra,  having  slain  — 

I  both  went  through  a  myriad  other  toils 

In  full  drove,  and  arrived  among  the  dead 

To  convoy,  as  Eurustheus  bade,  to  light 

Haides'  three-headed  dog  and  door-keeper. 

But  then  I,  —  wretch,  —  dared  this  last  labor  —  see  ! 

Slew  my  sons,  keystone-coped  my  house  with  ills. 

To  such  a  strait  I  come !   nor  my  dear  Thebes 

Dare  I  inhabit,  —  and,  suppose  I  stay  ? 

Into  what  fane  or  festival  of  friends 

Am  I  to  go  ?     My  curse  scarce  courts  accost ! 

Shall  I  seek  Argos?     How,  if  fled  from  home? 

But  say,  —  I  hurry  to  some  other  town  ! 

And  there  they  eye  me,  as  notorious  now,  — 

Kept  by  sharp  tongue-taunts  under  lock  and  key  — 


HERAKLES. 


425 


"  Is  not  this  he,  Zeus'  son,  who  murdered  once 

Children  and  wife  ?     Let  him  go  rot  elsewhere ! " 

To  any  man  renowned  as  happy  once. 

Reverses  are  a  grave  thing;   but  to  whom 

Evil  is  old  acquaintance,  there's  no  hurt 

To  speak  of,  he  and  misery  are  twins. 

To  this  degree  of  woe  I  think  to  come  : 

For  earth  will  utter  voice  forbidding  me 

To  touch  the  ground,  and  sea  —  to  pierce  the  wave, 

The  river-springs  —  to  drink,  and  I  shall  play 

Ixion's  part  quite  out,  the  chained  and  wheeled ! 

And  best  of  all  will  be,  if  so  I  'scape 

Sight  from  one  man  of  those  Hellenes,  —  once 

I  lived  among,  felicitous  and  rich ! 

Why  ought  I  then  to  live  ?    What  gain  accrues 

From  good-for-nothing,  wicked  life  I  lead  ? 

In  fine,  let  Zeus'  brave  consort  dance  and  sing. 

Stamp  foot,  the  Olympian  Zeus'  own  sandal-trick ! 

What  she  has  willed,  that  brings  her  will  to  pass  — 

The  foremost  man  of  Hellas  pedestalled. 

Up,  over,  and  down  whirling !     Who  w^ould  pray 


42  6  HERAKLES. 

To  such  a  goddess  ?  —  that,  begrudging  Zeus 
Because  he  loved  a  woman,  ruins  me  — 
Lover  of  Hellas,  faultless  of  the  wrong! 

THESEUS. 

This  strife  is  from  no  other  of  the  gods 
Than  Zeus'  wife ;  rightly  apprehend,  as  well, 
Why,  to  no  death  —  thou  meditatest  now  — 
I  would  persuade  thee,  but  to  bear  thy  woes! 
None,  none  of  mortals  boasts  a  fate  unmixed, 
Nor  gods  —  if  poets'  teaching  be  not  false. 
Have  not  they  joined  in  wedlock  against  law 
With  one  another?   not,  for  sake  of  rule. 
Branded  their  sires  in  bondage?    \'et  they  house, 
All  the  same,  in  Olumpos,  carry  heads 
High  there,  notorious  sinners  though  they  be ! 
What  wilt  thou  say,  then,  if  thou,  mortal-born, 
Bearest  outrageously  fate  gods  endure? 
Leave  Thebes,  now,  pay  obedience  to  the  law, 
And  follow  me  to  Pallas'  citadel! 
There,  when  thy  hands  are  purified  from  stain, 


HERAKLES.  4^7 

House  will  I  give  thee,  and  goods  shared  alike. 

What  gifts  I  hold  too  from  the  citizens 

For  saving  twice  seven  children,  when  I  slew 

The  Knosian  bull,  these  also  give  I  thee. 

And  everywhere  about  the  land  are  plots 

Apportioned  me  :    these,  named  by  thine  own  name, 

Shall  be  henceforward  styled  by  all  men  —  thine, 

Thy  life  long ;  but  at  death,  when  Haides-bound, 

All  Athens  shall  uphold  the  honored  one 

With  sacrifices,  and  huge  marble  heaps  : 

For  that's  a  fair  crown  our  Hellenes  grant 

Their  people  —  glory,  should  they  help  the  brave  ! 

And  I  repay  thee  back  this  grace  for  thine 

That  saved  me,  now  that  thou  art  lorn  of  friends  — 

Since,  when  the  gods  give  honor,  friends  may  flit : 

For,  a  god's  help  suffices,  if  he  please. 

HERAKLES. 

Ah  me,  these  words  are  foreign  to  my  woes! 

I  neither  fancy  gods  love  lawless  beds. 

Nor,  that  with  chains  they  bind  each  other's  hands, 


\ 

428  HERAKLES. 

Have  I  judged  worthy  faith,  at  any  time ; 

Nor  shill  I  be  persuaded  —  one  is  born 

His  fellows'  master  I   since  God  stands  in  need  — 

If  he  is  really  God  —  of  nought  at  all. 

These  are  the  poets'  pitiful  conceits  ! 

But  this  it  was  I  pondered,  though  woe-whelmed  — 

"  Take  heed  lest  thou  be  taxed  with  cowardice 

Somehow  in  leaving  thus  the  light  of  day ! " 

For  whoso  cannot  make  a  stand  against 

These  same  misfortunes,  neither  could  withstand 

A  mere  man's  dart,  oppose  death,  strength  to  strength 

Therefore  unto  thy  city  I  will  go 

And  have  the  grace  of  thy  ten  thousand  gifts. 

There !    I  have  tasted  of  ten  thousand  toils 

As  truly  —  never  waived  a  single  one, 

Nor  let  these  runnings  drop  from  out  my  eyes  I 

Nor  ever  thought  it  would  have  come  to  this  — 

That  I  from  out  my  eyes  do  drop  tears  !     Well  1 

At  present,  as  it  seems,  one  bows  to  fate. 

So  be  it!     Old  man,  thou  seest  my  exile  — 

Seesl,  too,  me  —  my  children's  murderer  I 


HERAKLES.  439 

These  give  thou  to  the  tomb,  and  deck  the  dead, 

Doing  them  honor  with  thy  tears  —  since  me 

Law  does  not  sanction  !     Propping  on  her  breast, 

And  giving  them  into  their  mother's  arms, 

—  Re-institute  the  sad  community 

Which  I,  unhappy,  brought  to  nothingness  — 

Not  by  my  will !     And,  when  earth  hides  the  dead, 

Live  in  this  city! — sad,  but,  all  the  same. 

Force  thy  soul  to  bear  woe  along  with  me ! 

O  children,  —  who  begat  and  gave  you  birth  — 

Your  father,  has  destroyed  you !   nought  you  gain 

By  those  fair  deeds  of  mine  I  laid  you  up, 

As  by  main-force  I  labored  glory  out 

To  give  you,  —  that  fine  gift  of  fatherhood  ! 

And  thee,  too,  O  my  poor  one,  I  destroyed, 

Not  rendering  like  for  like,  as  when  thou  kept'st 

My  marriage-bed  inviolate,  —  those  long 

Household-seclusions  draining  to  the  dregs 

Inside  my  house  !     O  me,  my  wife,  my  boys  — 

And  —  O  myself,  how,  miserably  moved, 

Am  I  disyoked  now  from  both  boys  and  wife  I 


43©  HERAKLES. 

O  bitter  those  delights  of  kisses  now  — 

And  bitter  these  my  weapons'  fellowship! 

For  I  am  doubtful  whether  shall  I  keep 

Or  cast  away  these  arrows  which  will  clang 

Ever  such  words  out,  as  they  knock  my  side  — 

"  Us  —  thou  didst  murder  wife  and  children  with  ! 

Us  —  child- destroyers  —  still  thou  keepest  thine!" 

Ha,  shall  I  bear  them  in  my  arms,  then?    What 

Say  for  excuse  ?    Yet,  naked  of  my  darts 

Wherewith  I  did  my  bravest,  Hellas  through, 

Throwing  myself  beneath  foot  to  my  foes, 

Shall  I  die  basely  ?     No  !    relinquishment 

Of  these  must  never  be,  —  companions  once, 

We  sorrowfully  must  observe  the  pact ! 

In  just  one  thing,  co-operate  with  me 

Thy  sad  friend,  Theseus !     Go  along  with  him 

To  Argos,  and  in  concert  get  arranged 

The  price  my  due  for  bringing  there  the  Hound ! 

O  land  of  Kadmos,  Theban  people  all, 

Shear  off  your  locks,  lament  one  wide  lament. 

Go  to  my  children's  grave  and,  in  one  strain, 


HERAKLES.  431 

Lament  the  whole  of  us  —  my  dead  and  me  — 
Since  all  together  are  fordone  and  lost, 
Smitten  by  Herd's  single  stroke  of  fate! 

THESEUS. 

Rise  up  now  from  thy  dead  ones  !     Tears  enough, 
Poor  friend  ! 

HERAKLES. 

I  cannot :   for  my  limbs  are  fixed. 

THESEUS. 

Ay :  even  these  strong  men  fate  overthrows ! 

HERAKLES. 

Woe! 

Here  might  I  grow  a  stone,  nor  mind  woes  more  I 

THESEUS.  ' 

Cease !    Give  thy  hand  to  friendly  helpmate  now  I 


432  HERAKLES. 

HERAKLES. 

Nay,  but  I  wipe  off  blood  upon  thy  robes! 

THESEUS. 

Squeeze  out  and  spare  no  drop !    I  take  it  all  I 

HERAKLES. 

Of   sons  bereaved,  I  have  thee  like  my  son! 

THESEUS. 

Give  to  my  neck  thy  hand !   'tis  I  will  lead. 

HERAKLES. 

Yoke-fellows  friendly — one  heart-broken,  though  I 
O  father  1   such  a  man  we  need  for  friend! 

AMPHITRUON. 

Certes,  the  land  that  bred  him  boasts  good  sons  I 

HERAKLES. 

Turn  me  round,  Theseus  —  to  behold  my  boys! 


HERAKLES.  433 

THESEUS. 

What?  will  the  having  such  a  love-charm  soothe? 

HERAKLES. 

I  want  itj  and  to  press  my  father's  breast. 

AMPHITRUON. 

See  here,  O  son!  for,  what  I  love  thou  seek'sti 

THESEUS. 

Strange !     Of  thy  labors  no  more  memory  ? 

HERAKLES. 

All  those  were  less  than  these,  those  ills  I  bore  I 

THESEUS. 

Who  sees  thee  grow  a  woman,  —  will  not  praise  1 

HERAKLES. 

I  live  low  to  thee?    Not  so  once,  I  think! 


434  HERAKLES. 

THESEUS. 

Too  low  by  far !     "  Famed  Herakles  "  —  where's  he  ? 

HERAKLES. 

Down  amid  evils,  of  what  kind  wast  thou  / 

THESEUS. 

As  far  as  courage  —  least  of  all  mankind! 

HERAKLES. 

How  say'st,  then,  /  in  evils  shrink  to  nought  ? 

THESEUS. 

Forward ! 

HERAKLES. 

Farewell,  old  father! 

AMPHITRUON. 

Thou  too,  son  1 


HERAKLES.  435 

HERAKLES. 

Bury  the  boys  as  I  enjoined ! 

AMPHITRUON. 

And  me— 
Who  will  be  found  to  bury  now,  my  child? 

HERAKLES. 

Myself ! 

AMPHITRUON. 

"When,  coming? 

HERAKLES. 

When  thy  task  is  done. 

AMPHITRUON. 


How? 


436  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

HERAKLES. 

I  will  have  thee  carried  forth  from  Thebes 
To  Athens.     But  bear  in  the  children,  earth 
Is  burthened  by !     Myself,  —  who  with  these  shames 
Have  cast  away  my  house,  —  a  ruined  hulk, 
I  follow  —  trailed  by  Theseus  —  on  my  way ; 
And  whoso  rather  would  have  wealth  and  strength 
Than  good  friends,  reasons  foolishly  therein! 

CHOROS. 

And  we  depart,  with  sorrow  at  heart, 
Sobs  that  increase  with  tears  that  start; 
The  greatest  of  all  our  friends  of  yore. 
We  have  lost  forevermore ! 


When  the  long  silence  ended,  —  "  Our  best  friend  - 
Lost,  our  best  friend !  "   he  muttered  musingly. 
Then,  "Lachares  the  sculptor"  (half  aloud) 
"Sinned  he  or  sinned  he  not?     'Outrageous  sin!* 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOCy.  437 

Shuddered  our  elders,  'Pallas  should  be  clothed: 
He  carved  her  naked.'     *  But  more  beautiful ! ' 
Answers  this  generation :   *  Wisdom  formed 
For  love  not  fear ! '     And  there  the  statue  stands. 
Entraps  the  eye  severer  art  repels. 
Moreover,  Pallas  wields  the  thiinderbolt, 
Yet  has  not  struck  the  artist  all  this  while. 
Pheidias  and  Aischulos  ?     Euripides 
And  Lachares?     But  youth  will  have  its  way! 
The  ripe  man  ought  to  be  as  old  as  young  — 
As  young  as  old.     I  too  have  youth  at  need. 
Much  may  be  said  for  stripping  wisdom  bare ! 

•'And  who's  'our  best  friend'?     You  play  kottabos; 
Here's  the  last  mode  of  playing.     Take  a  sphere 
With  orifices  at  due  interval, 
Through  topmost  one  of  which,  a  throw  adroit 
Sends  wine  from  cup,  clean  passage,  from  outside 
To  where,  in  hollow  midst,  a  manikin 
Suspended  ever  bobs  with  head  erect 
Right  underneath  whatever  hole's  a-top 


438  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

When  you  set  orb  a-roUing :   plumb,  he  gets 

Ever  this  benediction  of  the  splash. 

An  other-fashioned  orb  presents  him  fixed : 

Of  all  the  outlets,  he  fronts  only  one, 

And  only  when  that  one,  —  and  rare  the  chance.  — 

Comes  uppermost,  does  he  turn  upward  too : 

He  can't  turn  all  sides  with  the  turning  orb. 

Inside  this  sphere  of  life,  —  all  objects,  sense 

And  soul  perceive,  —  Euripides  hangs  fixed. 

Gets  knov/ledge  through  the  single  aperture 

Of  High  and  Right :   with  visage  fronting  these 

He  waits  the  wine  thence  ere  he  operate, 

Work  in  the  world  and  write  a  tragedy. 

\Yhen  that  hole  happens  to  revolve  to  point, 

In  drops  the  knowledge,  waiting  meets  reward. 

But,  duly  in  rotation,  Low  and  Wrong  — 

When  these  enjoy  the  moment's  altitude, 

His  heels  are  found  just  where  his  head  should  be.' 

No  knowledge  that  way !     /  am  movable,  — 

To  slightest  shift  of  orb  make  prompt  response, 

Face  Low  and  Wrong  and  Weak  and  all  the  resl^ 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  439 

And  still  drink  knowledge,  wine-drenched  every  turn,  — 

Equally  favored  by  their  opposites. 

Little  and  Bad  exist,  are  natural : 

Then  let  me  know  them,  and  be  twice  as  great 

As  he  who  only  knows  one  phase  of  life ! 

So  doubly  shall  I  prove  '  best  friend  of  man,' 

If  I  report  the  whole  truth; — Vice,  perceived 

While  he  shut  eyes  to  all  but  Virtue  there. 

Man's  made  of  both :   and  both  must  be  of  use 

To  somebody:   if  not  to  him,  to  me. 

While,  as  to  your  imaginary  Third 

Who,  —  stationed  (by  mechanics  past  my  guess) 

So  as  to  take  in  every  side  at  once. 

And  not  successively,  —  may  reconcile 

The  High  and  Low  in  tragicomic  verse,  — 

He  shall  be  hailed  superior  to  us  both 

When  bom  —  in  the  Tin-Islands !     Meantime,  here 

In  bright  Athenai,  I  contest  the  claim. 

Call  myself  lostephanos'  'best  friend,' 

Who  took  my  own  course,  worked  as  I  descried 

Ordainment,  stuck  to  my  first  faculty ! 


44°  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

"  For,  listen !     There's  no  failure  breaks  the  heart, 
Whate'er  be  man's  endeavor  in  this  world, 
Like  the  rash  poet's  when  he  —  nowise  fails 
By  poetizing  badly,  —  Zeus  or  makes 
Or  mars  a  man,  so  —  at  it,  merrily ! 
But  when, — made  man,  — much  like  myself,  —  equipped 
For  such  and  such  achievement,  —  rash  he  turns 
Out  of  the  straight  path,  bent  on  snatch  of  feat 
From  —  who's  the  appointed  fellow  born  thereto,  — 
Crows  take  him  !  —  in  your  Kassiterides  ? 
Half-doing  his  work,  leaving  mine  untouched, 
That  were  the  failure !     Here  I  stand,  heart-whole, 
No  Thamuris ! 

"Well  thought  of,  Thamuris! 
Has  zeal,  pray,  for  '  best  friend '  Euripides 
Allowed  you  to  observe  the  honor  done 
His  elder  rival,  in  our  Poikild? 
You  don't  know?     Once  and  only  once,  trod  stage, 
Sang  and  touched  lyre  in  person,  in  his  youth. 
Our  Sophokles,  —  youth,  beauty,  dedicate 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  441 

To  Thamuris  who  named  the  tragedy. 

The  voice  of  him  was  weak  ;  face,  limbs  and  Ijnre, 

These  were  worth  saving:   Thamuros  stands  yet 

Perfect  as  painting  helps  in  such  a  case. 

At  least  you  know  the  story,  for  'best  friend' 

Enriched  his  '  Rhesos '  from  the  Blind  Bard's  store  ; 

So  haste  and  see  the  work,  and  lay  to  heart 

What  it  was  struck  me  when  I  eyed  the  piece ! 

Here  stands  a  poet  punished  for  rash  strife 

With  Powers  above  his  power,  who  see  with  sight 

Beyond  his  vision,  sing  accordingly 

A  song,  which  he  must  needs  dare  emulate  ! 

Poet,  remain  the  man  nor  ape  the  Muse ! 


"  But  —  lend  me  the  psalterion  !     Nay,  for  once  — 
Once  let  my  hand  fall  where  the  other's  lay! 
I  see  it,  just  as  I  were  Sophokles, 
That  sunrise  and  combustion  of  the  east ! " 

And  then  he  sang  —  are  these  unlike  the  words  ? 


442  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Thaniuris  marching,  —  lyre  and  song  of  Thrace - 
(Perpend  the  first,  the  worst  of  woes  that  were, 
Allotted  lyre  and  song,  ye  poet-race  !) 


Thamuris  from  Oichalia,  feasted  there 
By  kingly  Eurutus  of  late,  now  bound 
For  Dorion  at  the  uprise  broad  and  bare 

Of  Mount  Pangaios,  (ore  with  earth  enwound 

Glittered  beneath  his  footstep)  —  marching  gay 

And  glad,  Thessalia  through,  came,  robed  and  crowned, 

From  triumph  on  to  triumph,  'mid  a  ray 

Of  early  morn,  —  came,  saw  and  knew  the  spot 

Assigned  him  for  his  worst  of  woes,  that  day. 

Balura  —  happier  while  its  name  was  not  — 
Met  him,  but  nowise  menaced  ;   slipped  aside 
Obsequious  river,  to  pursue  its  lot 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  443 

Of  solacing  the  valley — say,  some  wide 
Thick  busy  human  cluster,  house  and  home, 
Embanked   for  oeace,  or  thrift  that  thanks  the  tide. 


Thamuris,  marching,  laughed  "  Each  flake  of  foam  " 

(As  sparklingly  the  ripple  raced  him  by) 

"  Mocks  slower  clouds  adrift  in  the  blue  dome  1 " 


For  Autumn  was  the  season  ;   red  the  sky 

Held  mom's  conclusive  signet  of  the  sun 

To  break  the  mists  up,  bid  them  blaze  and  die. 

Mom  had  the  mastery  as,  one  by  one 

All  pomps  produced  themselves  along  the  tract 

From  earth's  far  ending  to  near  heaven  begun. 

Was  there  a  ravaged  llxee?   it  laughed  compact 
With  gold,  a  leaf -ball  crisp,  high-brandished  now, 
Tempting  to  onset  frost  which  late  attacked. 


444  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Was  there  a  wizened  shrub,  a  starveling  bough, 

A  fleecy  thistle  filched  from  by  the  wind, 

A  weed,  Pan's  trampling  hoof  would  disallow? 

Each,  with  a  glory  and  a  rapture  twined 
About  it,  joined  the  rush  of  air  and  light 
And  force:   the  world  was  of  one  joyous  mind. 

Say  not  the  birds  flew !   they  forbore  their  right  — 

Swam,  revelling  onward  in  the  roll  of  things. 

Say  not  the  beasts'  mirth  bounded  !  that  was  flight  — 

How  could  the  creatures  leap,  no  lift  of  wings  ? 
Such  earth's  community  of  purpose,  such 
The  ease  of  earth's  fulfilled  imaginings, — 

So  did  the  near  and  far  appear  to  touch 

r  the  moment's  transport,  —  that  an  interchange 

^3f  function,  far  with  near,  seemed  scarce  too  much 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  445 

And  had  the  rooted  plant  aspired  to  range 

With  the  snake's  license,  while  the  insect  yearned 

To  glow  fixed  as  the  flower,  it  were  not  strange  — 

No  more  than  if  the  fluttery  tree-top  turned 

To  actual  music,  sang  itself  aloft  \ 

Or  if  the  wind,  impassioned  chantress,  earned 

The  right  to  soar  embodied  in  some  soft 
Fine  form  all  fit  for  cloud-companionship, 
And,  blissful,  once  touch  beauty  chased  so  oft. 

Thamuris,  marching,  let  no  fancy  slip 

Born  of  the  fiery  transport ;  lyre  and  song 

Were  his,  to  smite  with  hand  and  launch  from  lip  — 


Peerless  recorded,  since  the  list  grew  long 
Of  poets  (saith  Homeros)  free  to  stand 
Pedestalled  'mid  the  Muses'  temple-throng, 


446  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

A  statued  service,  laurelled,  lyre  in  hand, 
(Ay,  for  we  see  them)  —  Thamuris  of  Thrace 
Predominating  foremost  of  the  band. 

Therefore  the  morn-ray  that  enriched  his  face, 

If  it  gave  lambent  chill,  took  flame  again 

From  flush  of  pride ;   he  saw,  he  knew  the  place. 

What  wind  arrived  with  all  the  rhythms  from  plain. 
Hill,  dale,  and  that  rough  wildwood  interspersed? 
Compounding  these  to  one  consummate  strain, 

It  reached  him,  music  ;  but  his  own  outburst 

Of  victory  concluded  the  account. 

And  that  grew  song  which  was  mere  music  erst. 

Be  my  Pamassos,  thou  Pangaian  mount! 
And  turn  thee,  river,  nameless  hitherto  ! 
Famed  shalt  thou  vie  with  famed  Pieria's  fount! 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  i^'J 

Here  I  await  the  end  of  this  ado : 

Which  wins — Earth's  poet  or  the  Heavenly  Muse.''  . .  . 

But  song  broke  up  in  laughter.     "Tell  the  rest, 
Who  may !   /  have  not  spurned  the  common  life. 
Nor  vaunted  mine  a  lyre  to  match  the  Muse 
Who  sings  for  gods,  not  men !     Accordingly, 
I  shall  not  decorate  her  vestibule  — 
Mute  marble,  blind  the  eyes  and  quenched  the  brain, 
Loose  in  the  hand  a  bright,  a  broken  lyre! 
—  Not  Thamuris  but  Aristophanes ! 

"  There !     I  have  sung  content  back  to  myself, 

And  started  subject  for  a  play  beside. 

My  next  performance  shall  content  you  both. 

Did  '  Prelude-Battle  '  maul  *  best  friend  '  too  much  ? 

Then  *  Main-Fight '  be  my  next  song,  fairness'  self ! 

Its  subject — Contest  for  the  Tragic  Crown. 

Ay,  you  shall  hear  none  else  but  Aischxilos 

Lay  down  the  law  of  Tragedy,  and  prove 

'  Best  friend  '  a  stray-away,  —  no  praise  denied 


448  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

His  manifold  deservings,  never  fear  — 

Nor  word  more  of  the  old  fun !     Death  defends  1 

Sound  admonition  has  its  due  effect. 

Oh,  you  have  uttered  weighty  words,  believe  I 

Such  as  shall  bear  abundant  fruit,  next  year, 

In  judgment,  regular,  legitimate. 

Let  Bacchos'  self  preside  in  person  !     Ay  — 

For  there's  a  buzz  about  those  *  Bacchanals ' 

Rumor  attributes  to  your  great  and  dead 

For  final  effort :   just  the  prodigy 

Great  dead  men  leave,  to  lay  survivors  low ! 

—  Until  we  make  acquaintance  with  our  fate 

And  find,  fate's  worst  done,  we,  the  same,  survive 

Perchance  to  honor  more  the  patron-god, 

Fitlier  inaugurate  a  festal  year. 

Now  that  the  cloud  has  broken,  sky  laughs  blue, 

Earth  blossoms  youthfully  !     Athenai  breathes  ! 

After  a  twenty-six  years'  wintry  blank 

Struck  from  her  life, — war-madness,  one  long  swoon, 

She  wakes  up :    Arginousai  bids  good  cheer  ! 

We  have  disposed  of  Kallikratidas ; 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  449 

Once  more  will  Spartd  sue  for  terms,  —  who    knows? 
Cede  Dekeleia,  as  the  rumor  runs : 
Terms  which  Athenai,  of  right  mind  again, 
Accepts  —  she  can  no  other!     Peace  declared. 
Have  my  long  labors  borne  their  fruit  or  no  ? 
Grinned  coarse  buffoonery  so  oft  in  vain? 
Enough  —  it  simply  saved  you!   saviors — praise 
Theoria's  beauty  and  Oporia's  breadth! 
Nor,  when  Peace  realizes  promised  bliss. 
Forget  the  Bald  Bard,  Envy!   but  go  burst 
As  the  cup  goes  round,  and  the  cates  abound, 
Collops  of  hare,  with  roast  spinks  rare  I 
Confess  my  pipings,  dancings,  posings  served 
A  purpose :    guttlings,  guzzlings,  had  their  use  ! 
Say  whether  light  Muse,  Rosy-finger-tips, 
Or  'best  friend's'  Heavy-hand,  Melpomen^, 
Touched  lyre  to  purpose,  played  Amphion's  part, 
And  built  Athenai  to  the  skies  once  more  ! 
Farewell,  brave  couple  !     Next  year,  welcome  me !  " 


450  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

No  doubt,  in  what  he  said  that  night,  sincere  I 

One  story  he  referred  to,  false  or  fact, 

Was  not  without  adaptability. 

They  do  say  —  Lais  the  Corinthian  once 

Chancing  to  see  Euripides  (who  paced 

Composing  in  a  garden,  tablet-book 

In  left  hand,  with  appended  stulos  prompt) 

"Answer  me,"  she  began,  "O  Poet,  —  this! 

What  didst  intend  by  writing  in  thy  play 

Go  hang,  thou  filthy  doer  ?  "     Struck  on  heap, 

Euripides,  at  the  audacious  speech  — 

"Well  now,"  quoth  he,  "thyself  art  just  the  one 

I  should  imagine  fit  for  deeds  of  filth ! " 

She  laughingly  retorted  his  own  line 

"  What's  filth,  —  unless  who  does  it,  thinks  it  so  ? " 

So  might  he  doubtless  think.     "Farewell,"  said  we. 

And  he  was  gone,  lost  in  the  morning-gray, 
Rose-streaked  and  gold  to  eastAvard.     Did  we  dream  ^ 
Could  the  poor  twelve  hours  hold  this  argument 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  45 1 

We  render  durable  from  fugitive, 

As  duly  at  each  sunset's  droop  of  sail, 

Delay  of  oar,  submission  to  sea-might, 

1  still  remember,  you  as  duly  dint 

Remembrance,  with  the  punctual  rapid  style. 

Into  —  what  calm  cold  page ! 

Thus  soul  escapes 
From  eloquence  made  captive :   thus  mere  words 
—  Al ,  would  the  lifeless  body  stay  !     But  no : 
Change  upon  change  till,  —  who  may  recognize 
What  did  soul  service,  in  the  dusty  heap  ? 
What  energy  of  Aristophanes 
Inflames  the  wreck  Balaustion  saves  to  show? 
Ashes  be  evidence  how  fire  —  and  smoke  — 
All  night  went  lamping  on  !     But  morn  must  rise. 
The  poet  —  I  shall  say  —  burned  up  and,  blank. 
Smouldered  this  ash,  now  white  and  cold  enough. 


Nay,  Euthukles  !  for  best,  though  mine  it  be, 
Comes  yet !     Write  on,  write  ever,  wrong  no  word  I 


452  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Add,  first,  —  he  gone,  if  jollity  went  too, 

Some  of  the  graver  mood,  which  mixed  and  marred, 

Departed  likewise.     Sight  of  narrow  scope 

Has  this  meek  consolation :  neither  ills, 

We  dread,  nor  joys,  we  dare  anticipate, 

Perform  to  promise.     Each  soul  sows  a  seed  — 

Euripides  and  Aristophanes ; 

Seed  bears  crop,  scarce  within  our  little  lives  ; 

But  germinates,  —  perhaps  enough  to  judge,  — 

Next  year? 

Whereas,  next  year  brought  harvest-time  ! 
For,  next  year  came,  and  went  not,  but  is  now. 
Still  now,  while  you  and  I  are  bound  for  Rhodes 
That's  all  but  reached !  —  and  harvest  has  it  brought, 
Dire  as  the  homicidal  dragon-crop  ! 
Sophokles  had  dismissal  ere  it  dawned, 
Happy  as  ever ;   though  men  mournfully 
Plausive,  —  when  only  soul  could  triumph  now, 
And  lophon  produced  his  father's  play,  — 
Crowned  the  consummate  song  where  Oidipous 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  453 

Dared  the  descent  'mid  earthquake-thundering, 
And  hardly  Theseus'  hands  availed  to  guard 
Eyes  from  the  honor,  as  their  grove  disgorged 
Its  dread  ones,  while  each  daughter  sank  to  ground. 

Then  Aristophanes,  on  heel  of  that. 

Triumphant  also,  followed  with  his  "  Frogs  : " 

Produced  at  next  Lenaia,  —  three  months  since,  — 

The  promised  Main-Fight,  loyal,  license-free  ! 

As  if  the  poet,  primed  with  Thasian  juice, 

(Himself  swore  —  wine  that  conquers  every  kind 

For  long  abiding  in  the  head)  could  fix 

Thenceforward  any  object  in  its  truth, 

Through  eyeballs  bathed  by  mere  Castalian  dew, 

Nor  miss  the  borrowed  medium,  —  vinous  drop 

That  colors  all  to  the  right  crimson  pitch 

When  mirth  grows  mockery,  censure  takes  the  tinge 

Of  malice ! 

All  was  Aristophanes : 
There  blazed  the  glory,  there  shot  black  the  shame  I 
Ay,  Bacchos  did  stand  forth,  the  Tragic  God 


454  ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY. 

In  person  !    and  when  duly  dragged  through  mire,  — 
Having    lied,    filched,    played    fool,    proved    coward, 

flung 
The  boys  their  dose  of  fit  indecency, 
And  finally  got  trounced  to  heart's  content. 
At  his  own  feast,  in  his  own  theatre 
( —  Oh,  never  fear  !    'Twas  consecrated  sport, 
Exact  tradition,  warranted  no  whit 
Offensive  to  instructed  taste,  —  indeed, 
Essential  to  Athenai's  liberty, 

Could  the  poor  stranger  understand  !)  why,  then  — 
He  was  pronounced  the  rarely-qualified 
To  rate  the  work,  adjust  the  claim  to  worth. 
Of  Aischulos  (of  whom,  in  other  mood. 
This  same  appreciative  poet  pleased 
To  say  "  He's  all  one  stiff  and  gluey  piece 
Of  back  of  swine's  neck !  ")  —  and  the  Chatterbox 
Who,  "twisting  words  like  wool,"  usurped  his  seat 
In  Plouton's  realm  :   "  the  arch-rogue,  liar,  scamp 
That  lives  by  snatching-up  of  altar-orts," 
—  Who  failed  to  recognize  Euripides? 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  455 

Then  came  a  contest  for  supremacy  — 

Crammed  full  of  genius,  wit  and  fun  and  freak. 

No  spice  of  undue  spite  to  spoil  the  dish 

Of  all  sorts,  —  for  the  Mystics  matched  the  Frogs 

In  poetry,  no  Seiren  sang  so  sweet  !  — 

Till,  pressed  into  the  service  (how  dispense 

With  Phaps-Elaphion  and  free  foot-display?) 

The  Muse  of  dead  Euripides  danced  frank, 

Rattled  her  bits  of  tile,  made  all  too  plain 

How  baby-work  like  "  Herakles  "  had  birth ! 

Last,  Bacchos,  —  candidly  disclaiming  brains 

Able  to  follow  finer  argument, — 

Confessed  himself  much  moved  by  tiiree  main  facts: 

First,  —  if  you  stick  a  "  Lost  his  flask  of  oil " 

At  pause  of  period,  you  perplex  the  sense  — 

Were  it  the  Elegy  for  Marathon  ! 

Next,  if  you  weigh  two  verses,  "  car  "  —  the  word. 

Will  outweigh  "  club  "  —  the  word,  each  word-packed 

line !  » 

And  —  last,  worst  fact  of  all !   in  rivalry 
The  younger  poet  dared  to  improvise 


456  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Laudation  less  distinct  of  Triphales  — 

(Nay,      that      served      when      ourself      abused      the 

youth ! ) 
Pheidippides  —  (nor  that's  appropriate  now  !  ) 
Then, —  Alkibiades,  our  city's  hope, 
Since  times   change  and   we    Comics   should   change 

too! 
These  three  main  facts,  well  weighed,  drew  judgment 

down, 
Conclusively  assigned  the  wretch  his  fate  — 
"  Fate  due  "  admonished  the  sage  Mystic  choir, 
"To  sitting,  prate-apace,  with  Sokrates, 
Neglecting  music  and  each  tragic  aid  ! " 

—  All  wound-up  by  a  wish  "We  soon  may  cease 
From  certain  griefs,  and  warfare,  worst  of  them  !  " 

—  Since,  deaf  to  Comedy's  persistent  voice, 
War  still  raged,  still  was  like  to  rage.     In  vain 
Had  Sparte  cried  once  more  "  For  granted  Peace 
We  give  you  Dekeleia  back !  "     Too  shrewd 

Was  Kleophon  to  let  escape,  forsooth, 
The  enemy  —  at  final  gasp,  besides  1 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  457 

So,  Aristophanes  obtained  the  prize, 

And  so  Athenai  felt  she  had  a  friend 

Far  better  than  her  '*  best  friend,"  lost  last  year ; 

And    so,  such  fame  had  "  Frogs "   that,  when    came 

round 
This  present  year,  those  Frogs  croaked  gay  again 
At  the  great  Feast,  Elaphebolion-month. 
Only  —  there  happened  Aigispotamoi ! 
And,  in  the  midst  of  the  frog-merriment, 
Plump  o'  the  sudden,  pounces  stem  King  Stork 
On  the  light-hearted  people  of  the  marsh ! 
Spartan  Lusandros  swooped  precipitate, 
Ended  Athenai,  rowed  her  sacred  bay 
With  oars  which  brought  a  hundred  triremes  back 
Captive ! 

And  first  word  of  the  conqueror 
Was  "  Down  with  those  Long  Walls,  Peiraios'  pride  I 
Destroy,    yourselves,    your    bulwarks!     Peace    needs 

none ! " 
Ajid  "We  obey"  they  shuddered  in  their  dream. 


45^  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

But,  at  next  quick  imposure  of  decree  — 

"  No  longer  democratic  government ! 

Henceforth  such  oligarchy  as  ourselves 

Please  to  appoint  you  1  "  —  then  the  horror  stung 

Dreamers  awake  ;   they  started  up  a-stare 

At  the  half-helot  captain  and  his  crew 

—  Spartans,  "men  used  to  let  their  hair  grow  long, 

To  fast,  be  dirty,  and  just  —  Socratize  "  — 

Whose  word  was  "  Trample  on  Themistokles  ! " 

So,  as  the  way  is  with  much  misery. 

The  heads  swam,  hands  refused  their  office,  hearts 

Sunk  as  they  stood  in  stupor.     "  Wreck  the  Walls  ? 

Ruin  Peiraios  ?  —  with  our  Pallas  armed 

For  interference  ?  —  Herakles  apprised, 

And  Theseus  hasting?     Lay  the  Long  Walls  low?" 

Three  days  they  stood,  stared,  —  stonier  than  their  walls. 

Wliereupon,  sleep  who  might,  Lusandros  woke: 
Saw  the  prostration  of  his  enemy, 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  459 

Utter  and  absolute  beyond  belief 

Past  hope  of  hatred  even.     I  surmise 

He  also  probably  saw  fade  in  fume 

Certain  fears,  bred  of  Bakis-prophecy, 

Nor  apprehended  any  more  that  gods 

And    heroes,  —  fire,    must    glow    forth,    guard    the 

ground 
Where  prone,  by  sober  day-dawn,  corpse-like  lay 
Powerless  Athenai,  late  predominant 
Lady  of  Hellas,  —  Spartd's  slave-prize  now  ! 
Where  should  a  menace  lurk  in  those  slack  limbs? 
What  was  to  move  his  circumspection?    Why 
Demolish  just  Peiraios? 

"Stay!"   bade  he: 
"  Already  promise-breakers  ?    True  to  type, 
Athenians !  past,  and  present,  and  to  come,  — 
The  fickle  and  the  false  !     No  stone  dislodged. 
No  implement  applied,  yet  three  days'  grace 
Expire !     Forbearance  is  no  longer  lived. 
By  breaking  promise,  terms  of  peace  you  break  — 


460  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Too  gently  framed  for  falsehood,  fickleness  ! 
All  must  be  reconsidered  —  yours  the  fault ! " 

Wherewith,  he  called  a  council  of  allies. 
Pent-up  resentment  used  its  privilege,  — 
Outburst  at  ending :   this  the  summed  result. 

"Because  we  would  avenge  no  transient  wrong 
But  an  eternity  of  insolence. 
Aggression,  —  folly,  no  disasters  mend, 
Pride,  no  reverses  teach  humility,  — 
Because  too  plainly  were  all  punishment, 
Such  as  comports  with  less  obdurate  crime, 
Evadible  by  falsehood,  fickleness  — 
Experience  proves  the  true  Athenian  type,  — 
Therefore,  'tis  need  we  dig  deep  down  into 
The  root  of  evil  ;   lop  nor  bole  nor  branch. 
Look  up,  look  round  and  see,  on  every  side, 
What  nurtured  the  rank  tree  to  noisome  fruit! 
We  who  live  hutted  (so  they  laugh)  not  housed, 
Build  barns  for  temples,  prize  mud-monuments, 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  461 

Nor  show  the  sneering  stranger  aught  but  —  men,  — 

Spartans  take  insult  of  Athenians  just 

Because  they  boast  Akropolis  to  mount, 

And  Propulaia  to  make  entry  by. 

Through  a  mad  maze  of  marble  arrogance 

Such  as  you  see  —  such  as  let  none  see  more  I 

Abolish  the  detested  luxury  ! 

Leave  not  one  stone  upon  another,  raze 

Athenai  to  the  rock  !     Let  hill  and  plain 

Become  a  waste,  a  grassy  pasture-ground 

Where  sheep  may  wander,  grazing  goats  depend 

From  shapeless  crags  once  columns !   so  at  last 

Shall  peace  inhabit  there,  and  peace  enough." 

Whereon,  a  shout  approved  "  Such  peace  bestow  !  " 
Then  did  a  Man  of  Phokis  rise  —  O  heart ! 
Rise  —  when  no  bolt  of  Zeus  disparted  sky, 
No  omen-bird  from  Pallas  scared  the  crew, 
Rise  —  when  mere  human  argument  could  stem 
No  foam-fringe  of  the  passion  surging  fierce. 
Baffle  no  wrath-wave  that  o'er  barrier  broke  — 


462  ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY. 

Who  was  the  Man  of  Phokis  rose  and  flung 

A  flower  i'  the  way  of  that  fierce  foot's  advance, 

Which  —  stop  for  ?  —  nay,  had  stamped  down  sword's 

assault ! 
Could  it  be  He  stayed  Spartd  with  the  snatch 
"  Daughter  of  Agamemnon,  late  my  liege, 
Elektra,  palaced  once,  a  visitant 
To  thy  poor  rustic  dwelling,  now  I  come?" 

Ay,  facing  fury  of  revenge,  and  lust 

Of  hate,  and  malice  moaning  to  appease 

Hunger  on  prey  presumptuous,  prostrate  now  — 

Full  in  the  hideous  faces  —  last  resource, 

He  flung  that  choric  flower,  my  Euthuklesl 

And  see,  as  through  some  pinhole,  should  the  wind 
Wedgingly  pierce  but  once,  in  with  a  rush 
Hurries  the  whole  wild  weather,  rends  to  rags 
The  weak  sail  stretched  against  the  outside  storm  — » 
So  did  the  power  of  that  triumphant  play 
Pour  in,  and  oversweep  the  assembled  foe  1 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  .    463 

Triumphant  play,  wherein  our  poet  first 

Dared  bring  the  grandeur  of  the  Tragic  Two 

Down  to  the  level  of  our  common  life, 

Close  to  the  beating  of  our  common  heart. 

Elektra?     'Twas  Athenai,  Spartd's  ice 

Thawed  to,  while  that  sad  portraiture  appealed  — 

Agamemnonian  lady,  lost  by  fault 

Of  her  own  kindred,  cast  from  house  and  home, 

Despoiled  of  all  the  brave  inheritance, 

Dowered  humbly  as  befits  a  herdsman's  mate. 

Partaker  of  his  cottage,  clothed  in  rags, 

Patient  performer  of  the  poorest  chares. 

Yet  mindful,  all  the  while,  of  glory  past 

When  she  walked  darling  of  Mukenai,  dear 

Beyond  Orestes  to  the  King  of  Men! 

So,  because  Greeks  are  Greeks,  though  Sparta's  brood, 
And  hearts  are  hearts,  though  in  Lusandros'  breast, 
And  poetry  is  power,  and  Euthukles 
Had  faith  therein  to,  full-face,  fling  the  same  — 
Sudden,  the  ice-thaw !     The  assembled  foe, 


464.  ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY. 

Heaving  and  swaying  with  strange  friendliness, 
Cried  "  Reverence  Elektra  !  "  —  cried  "  Abstain 
Like  that  chaste  Herdsman,  nor  dare  violate 
The  sanctity  of  such  reverse!     Let  stand 
Athenai ! " 

Mindful  of  that  story's  close, 
Perchance,  and  how,  —  when  he,  the  Herdsman  chaste, 
Needs  apprehend  no  break  of  tranquil  sleep,  — 
All  in  due  time,  a  stranger,  dark,  disguised. 
Knocks   at   the   door :    with   searching  glance,    notes 

keen. 
Knows  quick,  through  mean  attire  and  disrespect, 
The  ravaged  princess  !     Ay,  right  on,  the  clutch 
Of  guiding  retribution  has  in  charge 
The  author  of  the  outrage!     While  one  hand, 
Elektra's,  pulls  the  door  behind,  made  fast 
On  fate,  —  the  other  strains,  prepared  to  push 
The  victim-queen,  should  she  make  frightened   pause 
Before  that  serpentining  blood  which  steals 
Out  of  the  darkness  where,  a  pace  beyond, 


ARISTOPHANES'   APOLOGY.  465 

Above  the  slain  Aigisthos,  bides  his  blow 
Dreadful  Orestes  ! 

Klutaimnestra,  wise 
This  time,  forbore  ;  Elektra  held  her  own  ; 
Saved  was  Athenai  through  Euripides, 
Through  Euthukles,  through  —  more  than  eve/  —  me, 
Balaustion,  me,  who,  Wild-pomegranate-flower, 
Felt  my  fruit  triumph,  and  fade  proudly  so ! 

But  next  day,  as  ungracious  minds,  are  wont. 

The  Spartan,  late  surprised  into  a  grace. 

Grew  sudden  sober  at  the  enormity. 

And  grudged,  by  daybreak,  midnight's  easy  gift; 

Splenetically  must  repay  its  cost 

By  due  increase  of  rigor,  doglike  snatch 

At  aught  still  left  dog  to  concede  like  man. 

Rough  sea,  at  flow  of  tide,  may  lip,  perchance, 

Smoothly  the  land-line  reached  as  for  repose  — 

I,ie  indolent  in  all  unquestioned  sway; 

But  ebbing,  when  needs  must,  all  thwart  and  loath. 


.  466  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Sea  claws  at  sand  relinquished  strugglingly. 
So,  harsh  Lusandros  —  pinioned  to  inflict 
The  lesser  penalty  alone  —  spoke  harsh, 
A.S  minded  to  imbitter  scathe  by  scorn. 

'*  Athenai's  self  be  saved  then,  thank  the  Lyre ! 

If  Tragedy  withdraws  her  presence  —  quick, 

If  Comedy  replace  her, — what  more  just? 

Let  Comedy  do  service,  frisk  away. 

Dance  off  stage  these  indomitable  stones, 

Long  Walls,  Peiraian  bulwarks  !     Hew  and  heave, 

Pick  at,  pound  into  dust  each  dear  defence ! 

Not  to  the  Kommos  —  eleleleleu 

With  breast  bethumped,  as  Tragic  lyre  prefers, 

But  Comedy  shall  sound  the  flute,  and  crow 

At  kordax-end — the  hearty  slapping-dance! 

Collect  those  flute-girls  —  trash  who  flattered  ear 

With  whistlings,  and  fed  eye  with  caper-cuts, 

While  we  Lakonians  supped  black  broth  or  crunched 

Sea  urchin,  conchs  and  all,  unpricked  —  coarse  brutes  ' 

Command  they  lead  oft"  step,  time  steady  stroke 


ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY.  467 

To  spade  and  pickaxe,  till  demolished  lie 
Athenai's  pride  in  powder!" 

Done  that  day  — 
That  sixteenth  famed  day  of  Munuchion-month ! 
The  day  when  Hellas  fought  at  Salamiis, 
The  very  day  Euripides  was  bom, 
Those  flute-girls  —  Phaps-EIaphion  at  their  head  — 
Did  blow  their  best,  did  dance  their  worst,  the  while 
Spart^  pulled  down  the  walls,  wrecked  wide  the  works, 
Laid  low  each  merest  molehill  of  defence, 
And  so  the  Power,  Athenai,  passed  away ! 

We  would  not  see  its  passing!     Ere  I  knew 
The  issue  of  their  counsels, — crouching  low 
And  shrouded  by  my  peplos,  —  I  conceived. 
Despite  the  shut  eyes,  the  stopped  ears,  —  by  count 
Only  of  heart-beats,  telling  the  slow  time, — 
Athenai's  doom  was  signed  and  signified 
In  that  assembly,  —  ay,  but  knew  there  watched 
One  who  would  dare  and  do,  nor  bate  at  all 


468  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

The  stranger's  licensed  duty,  —  speak  the  word 

Allowed  the  Man  from  Phokis !     Nought  remained 

But  urge  departure,  flee  the  sights  and  sounds, 

Hideous  exultings,  wailings  worth  contempt, 

And  press  to  other  earth,  new  heaven,  by  sea 

That  somehow  ever  prompts  to  'scape  despair. 

Help  rose  to  heart's  wish  ;   at  the  harbor-side. 

The  old  gray  mariner  did  reverence 

To  who  had  saved  his  ship,  still  weather-tight 

As  when  with  prow  gay-garlanded  she  praised 

The  hospitable  port  and  pushed  to  sea. 

"  Convoy  Balaustion  back  to  Rhodes,  for  sake 

Of  her  and  h§r  Euripides  !  "    laughed  he. 

Rhodes,  —  shall  it  not  be  there,  my  Euthukles, 

Till  this  brief  trouble  of  a  life-time  end, 

That  solitude  —  two  make  so  populous  !  — 

For  food  finds  memories  of  the  past  suffice. 

May  be,  anticipations,  —  hope  so  swells, — 

Of  some  great  future  we,  familiar  once 

With  who  so  taught,  should  hail  and  entertain? 

He  lies  now  in  the  little  valley,  laughed 


AR/STOPHAA^ES'   APOLOGY.  469 

And  moaned  about  by  those  mysterious  streams, 

Boiling  and  freezing,  like  the  love  and  hate 

Which   helped   or   harmed   him    through    his   earthly 

course. 
They  mix  in  Arethousa  by  his  grave. 
The  warm  spring,  traveller,  dip  thine  arms  into. 
Brighten  thy  brow  with!     TJfe  detests  black  cold! 

I  sent  the  tablets,  the  psalterion,  so 
Rewarded  Sicily ;  the  tyrant  there 
Bestowed  them  worthily  in  Phoibos'  shrine. 
A  gold-graved  writing  tells — "I  also  loved 
The  poet.  Free  Athenai  cheaply  prized  — 
King  Dionusios,  —  Archelaos-like !  " 

And  see  if  young  Philemon,  —  sure  one  day 

To  do  good  service  and  be  loved  himself, — 

If  he  too  have  not  made  a  votive  verse  ! 

"  Grant,  in  good  sooth,  our  great  dead,  all  the  same, 

Retain  their  sense,  as  certain  wise  men  say, 

I'd  hang  myself  —  to  see  Euripides!" 


470  ARISTOPHANES'  APOLOGY. 

Hands  off,  Philemon  !     nowise  hang  thyself, 
But  pen  the  prime  plays,  labor  the  right  life, 
And  die  at  good  old  age  as  grand  men  use,  — 
Keeping   thee,   with   that    great    thought,   warm    the 

while,  — 
That  he  does  live,  Philemon  !     Ay,  most  sure ! 
"  He  lives  ! "  hark,  —  waves  say,  winds   sing  out  the 

same, 
And  yonder  dares  the  citied  ridge  of  Rhodes 
Its  headlong  plunge  from  sky  to  sea,  disparts 
North  bay  from  south,  —  each  guarded  calm,  that  guest 
May  enter  gladly,  blow  what  wind  there  will,  — 
Boiled  round  with  breakers,  to  no  other  cry! 
All  in  one  choros,  — what  the  master-word 
They  take  up  ?  — hark !   "There  are  no  gods,  no  gods ! 
Glory  to  God  —  who  saves  Euripides  !  " 


PACCHIAROTTO 


AND   OTHER  POEMS. 


PROLOGUE. 

X. 

O  the  old  wall  here!    How  I  could  pass 

Life  in  a  long  Midsummer  day, 
My  feet  confined  to  a  plot  of  grass, 

My  eyes  from  a  wa'l  not  once  away  I 

2. 

And  lush  and  lithe  do  the  creepers  clothe 
Yon  wall  I  watch,  with  a  wealth  of  green : 

Its  bald  red  bricks  draped,  nothing  loath. 
In  lappets  of  tangle  they  laugh  between. 

3- 

Now,  what  is  it  makes  pulsate  the  robe? 

Wliy  tremble  the  sprays  ?    What  life  o'erbrims 
The  body.  —  the  house,  no  eye  can  probe,  — 

Divined  as,  beneath  a  robe,  the  limbs? 


474  PROLOGUE. 

4. 

And  there  again!    But  my  heart  may  guess 
Who  tripped  behind  ;   and  she  sang  perhaps : 

So,  the  old  wall  throbbed,  and  its  life's  excess 
Died  out  and  away  in  the  leafy  wraps  I 

S- 

Wall  upon  wall  are  between  us :  life 

And  song  should  away  from  heart  to  heart! 

I  —  prison-bird,  with  a  ruddy  strife 
At  breast,  and  a  lip  whence  storm-notes  start  — 

6. 

Hold  on,  hope  hard  in  the  subtle  thing 

That's  spirit:  though  cloistered  fast,  soar  free; 

Account  as  wood,  brick,  stone,  this  ring 
Of  the  rueful  neighbors,  and  —  forth  to  thee  I 


OF  PACCHIAROTTO.  47S 


OF  PACCHIAROTTO,  AND   HOW  HE 
WORKED   IN  DISTEMPER. 

I. 

Query:  was  ever  a  quainter 
Crotchet  than  this  of  the  painter 
Giacomo  Pacchiarotto 
Who  took  "  Reform  "  for  his  motto  ? 


He,  pupil  of  old  Fungaio, 
Is  always  confounded  (heigho !  ) 
"With  Pacchia,  contemporaneous 
No  question,  but  how  extraneous 
In  the  grace  of  soul,  the  power 
Of  hand,  —  undoubted  dower 
Of  Pacchia  who  decked  (as  we  «now, 
My  Kirkup !)  San  Bernardino, 


476  OF  PA  CCHIARA  TTO, 

Turning  the  small  dark  Oratory 

To  Siena's  Art-laboratory, 

As  he  made  its  straightness  roomy 

And  glorified  its  gloomy, 

With  Bazzi  and  Beccafumi. 

(Another  heigho  for  Bazzi: 

How  people  miscall  him  Razzi !) 

3- 
This  Painter  was  of  opinion 
Our  earth  should  be  his  dominion 
Whose  Art  could  correct  to  pattern 
What  Nature  had  slurred  —  the  slattern  1 
And  since,  beneath  the  heavens, 
Things  lay  now  at  sixes  and  sevens, 
.  Or,  as  he  said,  sopra-sotto  — 
Thought  the  painter  Pacchiarotto 
Things  wanted  reforming,  therefore. 
"  Wanted  it  "  —  ay,  but  wherefore  ? 
When  earth  held  one  so  ready 
As  he  to  step  forth,  stand  steady 


AND  HOW  HE   WORKED  IN  DISTEMPER.    477 

In  the  middle  of  God's  creation 
And  prove  to  demonstration 
What  the  dark  is,  what  the  light  is, 
What  the  wrong  is,  what  the  right  is, 
What  the  ugly,  what  the  beautiful. 
What  the  restive,  what  the  dutiful, 
In  Mankind  profuse  around  him? 
Man,  devil  as  now  he  found  him, 
Would  presently  soar  up  angel 
At  the  summons  of  such  evangel, 
And  owe  —  what  would  Man  not  owe 
To  the  painter  Pacchiarotto  ? 
Ay,  look  to  thy  laurels,  Giotto! 

4. 

But  Man,  he  perceived,  was  stubborn, 
Grew  regular  brute,  once  cub  born  y 
And  it  struck  him  as  expedient  — 
Ere  he  tried  to  make  obedient. 
By  piping  advice  in  one  key. 
The  wolf,  fox,  bear  and  monkey  — 


478  OF  PACCHIAROTTO, 

That  his  pipe  should  play  a  prelude 

To  something  heaven-tinged  not  hell-hued, 

Something  not  harsh  but  docile, 

Man-liquid,  not  Man-fossil  — 

Not  faet,  in  short,  but  fancy. 

By  a  laudable  necromancy 

He  would  conjure  up  ghosts  —  a  circle 

Deprived  of  the  means  to  work  ill 

Should  his  music  prove  distasteful, 

And  pearls  to  the  swine  go  wasteful. 

To  be  rent  of  swine  —  that  was  hard  I 

With  fancy  he  ran  no  hazard : 

Fact  might  knock  him  o'er  the  mazard. 

5- 

So,  the  painter  Pacchiarotto 
Constructed  himself  a  grotto 
In  the  quarter  of  Stalloreggi  — 
As  authors  of  note  allege  ye. 
And  on  each  of  the  whitewashed  sides  of  it 
He  painted — (none  far  and  wide  so  fit 


AND  HOW  HE    WORKED  IN  DISTEMPER.    479 

As  he  to  perform  in  fresco)  — 

He  painted  nor  cried  quiesco 

Till  he  peopled  its  every  square  foot 

With  Man  —  from  the  Beggar  barefoot    , 

To  the  Noble  in  cap  and  feather : 

All  sorts  and  conditions  together. 

The  Soldier  in  breastplate  and  helmet 

Stood  frowningly  —  hail  fellow  well  met  — 

By  the  Priest  armed  with  bell,  book  and  candle. 

Nor  did  he  omit  to  handle 

The  Fair  Sex,  our  brave  distemperer: 

Not  merely  King,  Clown,  Pope,  Emperor  — 

He  diversified  too  his  Hades 

Of  all  forms,  pinched  Labor  and  paid  Ease, 

With  as  mixed  an  assemblage  of  Ladies. 

6. 

Which  work  done,  dry,  —  he  rested  him, 
Cleaned  palette,  washed  brush,  divested  him 
Of  the  apron  that  suits  frescanii, 
And,  bonnet  on  ear  stuck  jaunty, 


480  OF  PACCfflAROTTO, 

This  hand  upon  hip  well  planted, 

That,  free  to  wave  as  it  wanted, 

He  addressed  in  a  choice  oration 

His  folk  of  each  name  and  nation 

On  the  duties  of  every  station. 

The  pope  was  declared  an  arrant 

Impostor  at  once,  I  warrant. 

The  Emperor  —  truth  might  tax  him 

With  ignorance  of  the  maxim 

"  Shear  sheep  but  nowise  flay  them !  " 

And  the  Vulgar  that  obey  them. 

The  Ruled,  well-matched  with  the  Ruling, 

They  failed  not  of  wholesome  schooling 

On  their  knavery  and  their  fooling. 

^is  for  Art  —  where's  decorum?     Pooh-poohed  it  if 

jBy  Poets  that  plague  us  with  lewd  ditties,  ^ 

And  Painters  that  pester  with  nudities  I 

7. 
Now,  your  rater  and  debater 
Is  balked  by  a  mere  spectator 


AND  HOW  HE    WORKED  IN  DISTEMPER.   4^1 

Who  simply  stares  and  listens 

Tongue-tied,  while  eye  nor  glistens 

Nor  brow  grows  hot  and  twitchy, 

Nor  mouth,  for  a  combat  itchy, 

Quivers  with  some  convincing 

Reply  —  that  sets  him  wincing? 

Nay,  rather  —  reply  that  furnishes 

Your  debater  with  just  what  burnishes 

The  crest  of  him,  all  one  triumph. 

As  you  see  him  rise,  hear  him  cry  "  Humph  1 

Convinced  am  I  ?     This  confutes  me  ? 

Receive  the  rejoinder  that  suits  me  ! 

Confutation  of  vassal  for  prince  meet  — 

Wherein  all  the  powers  that  convince  meet; 

And  mash  my  opponent  to  mincemeat  1 " 

8. 

So,  off  from  his  head  flies  the  bonnet. 
His  hip  loses  hand  planted  on  it, 
While  t'other  hand,  frequent-in  gesture, 
Slinks  modestly  back  beneath  vesture, 


482     •  OF  PACCfflAROTTO, 

As,  —  hop,  skip  and  jump,  —  he's  along  with 

Those  weak  ones  he  late  proved  so  strong  with ! 

Pope,  Emperor,  lo  he's  beside  them. 

Friendly  now,  who  late  could  not  abide  them, 

King,  Clown,  Soldier,  Priest,  Noble,  Burgess ; 

And  his  voice,  that  out-roared  Boanerges, 

How  minikin-mildly  it  urges 

In  accents  how  gentled  and  gingered 

Its  word  in  defence  of  the  injured ! 

"  O  call  him  not  culprit,  this  Pontiff  I 

Be  hard  on  this  Kaiser  ye  won't  if 

Ye  take  into  con-si-de-ration 

What  dangers  attend  elevation ! 

The  Priest  —  who  expects  him  to  descant 

On  duty  with  more  zeal  and  less  cant? 

He  preaches  but  rubbish  he's  reared  in. 

The  Soldier,  grown  deaf  (by  the  mere  din 

Of  battle)  to  mercy,  learned  tippling 

And  what  not  of  vice  while  a  stripling. 

The  Lawyer — Mlfe  lies  are  conventional. 

And  as  for  the  Poor  Sorf  —  why  mention  all 


AND  HOW  HE   WORKED  IN  DISTEMPER.  483 

Obstructions  that  leave  barred  and  bolted 
Access  to  the  brains  of  each  dolt-head  ? " 


9- 
He  ended,  you  wager?    Not  half!     A  bet? 
Precedence  to  males  in  the  alphabet ! 
Still,  disposed  of  Man's  A.  B.  C,  there's  X. 
Y.  Z.  want  assistance,  —  the  Fair  Sex ! 
How  much  may  be  said  in  excuse  of 
Those  vanities  —  males  see  no  use  of  — 
From  silk  shoe  on  heel  to  laced  poll's-hood ! 
What's  their  frailty  beside  our  own  falsehood? 
The  boldest,  most  brazen  of  .  .  .  trumpets, 
How  kind  can  they  be  to  their  dumb  pets  ! 
Of    their    charms  —  how   are    most    frank,  how    fe"v» 

venal  1 
While  as  for  those  charges  of  Juvenal  — 
Qucz  nemo  dixisset  in  toto 
Nisi  {cedepol)  ore  illoto  — 
He  dismissed  every  charge  with  an  ^  Apagel* 


484  OF  PACCfflAROTTO, 

10. 

Then,  cocking  (in  Scotch  phrase)  his  cap  a-gee, 
Right  hand  disengaged  from  the  doublet 
—  Like  landlord,  in  house  he  had  sublet 
Resuming  of  guardianship  gestion, 
To  call  tenants'  conduct  in  question  — 
Hop,  skip,  jump,  to  inside  from  outside 
Of  chamber,  he  lords,  ladies,  louts  eyed 
With  such  transformation  of  visage 
As  fitted  the  censor  of  this  age. 
No  longer  an  advocate  tepid 
Of  frailty  but  champion  intrepid 
Of  strength,  —  not  of  falsehood  but  verity,  — 
He,  one  after  one,  with  asperity 
Stripped  bare  all  the  cant-clothed  abuses. 
Disposed  of  sophistic  excuses. 
Forced  folly  each  shift  to  abandon, 
And  left  vice  with  no  leg  to  stand  on. 
So  crushing  the  force  he  exerted, 
That  Man  at  his  foot  lay  converted  I 


AND  HOW  HE    WORKED  IN  DISTEMPER.  485 


True  —  Man  bred  of  paint-pot  and  mortar 
But  why  suppose  folks  of  this  sort  are 
More  likely  to  hear  and  be  tractable 
Than  folks  all  alive  and,  in  fact,  able 
To  testify  promptly  by  action 
Their  ardor,  and  make  satisfaction 
For  misdeeds  non  verbis  sed  factis  ? 
"With  folks  all  alive  be  my  practice 
Henceforward!     O  mortar,  paint-pot  O, 
Farewell  to  ye  ! "  cried  Pacchiarotto, 
"  Let  only  occasion  interpose !  " 

12. 

It  did  so :  for,  pat  to  the  purpose 
Through  causes  I  need  not  examine, 
There  fell  upoa  Siena  a  famine. 
In  vain  did  the  magistrates  busily 
Seek  succor,  fetch  grain  out  of  Sicily, 
Nay,  throw  mill  and  bakehouse  wide  open  — 


il86  OF  PACCHIAROTTO, 

Such  misery  followed  as  no  pen 
Of  mine  shall  depict  ye.     Faint,  fainter, 
Waxed  hope  of  relief:   so,  our  painter, 
Emboldened  by  triumph  of  recency, 
How  could  he  do  other  with  decency 
Than  rush  in  this  strait  to  the  rescue, 
Play  schoolmaster,  point  as  with  fescue 
To  each  and  all  slips  in  Man's  spelling 
The  law  of  the  land  ?  —  slips  now  telling 
With  monstrous  effect  on  the  city. 
Whose  magistrates  moved  him  to  pity 
As,  bound  to  read  law  to  the  letter, 
They  minded  their  hornbook  no  better. 

I  ought  to  have  told  you,  at  starting, 
How  certain,  who  itched  to  be  carting 
Abuses  away  clean  and  thorough 
From  Siena,  both  province  and  borough. 
Had  formed  themselves  into  a  company 
Whose  swallow  could  bolt  in  a  lump  any 


AND  HOW  HE    WORKED  IN  DISTEMPER.   487 

Obstruction  of  scruple,  provoking 

The  nicer  throat's  coughing  and  choking. 

Fit*Club,  by  as  fit  a  name  dignified 

Of  "Freed  Ones  "  — "^^r^^///"— which  signified 

"  Spare-Horses  "  that  walk  by  the  wagon 

The  team  has  to  drudge  for  and  drag  on. 

This  notable  Club  Pacchiarotto 

Had  joined  long  since,  paid  scot  and  lot  to, 

As  free  and  accepted  "Bardotto." 

The  Bailiwick  watched  with  no  quiet  eye 

The  outrage  thus  done  to  society, 

And  noted  the  advent  especially 

Of  Pacchiarotto  their  fresh  ally. 

14. 

These  Spare-Horses  forthwith  assembled: 
Neighed  words  whereat  citizens  trembled 
As  oft  as  the  chiefs,  in  the  Square  by 
The  Duomo,  proposed  a  way  whereby 
The  city  were  cured  of  disaster. 
"Just  substitute  servant  for  master. 


488  OF  PACCHIAROTTO, 

Make  Poverty  Wealth  and  Wealth  Poverty, 
Unloose  Man  from  overt  and  covert  tie, 
And  straight  out  of  social  confusion 
True  Order  would  spring  !  "     Brave  illusion  — 
Aims  heavenly  attained  by  means  earthy  I 

15- 
Off  to  these  at  full  speed  rushed  our  worthy,' 
Brain  practised  and  tongue  no  less  tutored, 
In  argument's  armor  accoutred,  — 
Sprang  forth,  mounted  rostrum  and  essayed 
Proposals  like  those  to  which  "  Yes  "  said 
So  glibly  each  personage  painted 
O'  the  wall-side  wherewith  you're  acquainted. 
He  harangued  on  the  faults  of  the  Bailiwick : 
"Red  soon  were  our  State-candle's  paly  wick, 
If  wealth  would  become  but  interfluous. 
Fill  voids  up  with  just  the  superfluous  ; 
If  ignorance  gave  way  to  knowledge 
—  Not  pedantry  picked  up  at  college 
From  Doctors,  Professors  et  catera  — 


AND  HOW  HE    WORKED  IN  DISTEMPER.   489 

{They  say:  ^ kai  ta  loipa' — like  better  a 

Long  Greek  string  of  kappas,  taus,  lambdas, 

Tacked  on  to  the  tail  of  each  damned  ass)  — 

No  knowledge  we  want  of  this  quality, 

But  knowledge  indeed  —  practicality 

Through  insight's  fine  universality! 

If  you  shout  *  Bailiffs,  out  on  ye  all  /    Fie, 

Thou  Chief  of  our  forces,  Amalfi, 

Who  shieldest  the  rogue  and  the  clotpoU!* 

If  you  pounce  on  and  poke  out,  with  what  polt 

I  leave  ye  to  fancy,  our  Siena's 

Beast-litter  of  sloths  and  hyenas  —  " 

(Whoever  to  scan  this  is  ill  able 

Forgets  the  town's  name's  a  dissyllable) 

"If,  this  done,  ye  did  —  as  ye  might  —  place 

For  once  the  right  man  in  the  right  place, 

If  you  listened  to  me  .  .  .*' 

16. 

At  which  last  "  If ' 
There  flew  at  his  throat  like  a  mastiff 


490  OF  PACCHIAROTTO, 

One  Spare-Horse  —  another  and  another  1 

Such  outbreak  of  tumult  and  pother, 

Horse-faces  a-laughing  and  fleering, 

Horse-voices  a-mocking  and  jeering. 

Horse-hands  raised  to  collar  the  caitiff 

Whose  impudence  ventured  the  late  "If" — 

That,  had  not  fear  sent  Pacchiarotto 

Off  tramping,  as  fast  as  could  trot  toe, 

Away  from  the  scene  of  discomfiture  — 

Had  he  stood  there  stock-still  in  a  dumb  fit  —  sure 

A.m  I  he  had  paid  in  his  person 

Till  his  mother  might  fail  to  know  her  son, 

Though  she  gazed  on  him  never  so  wistful, 

In  the  figure  so  tattered  and  tristful. 

Each  mouth  full  of  curses,  each  fist  full 

Of  cuffings  —  behold,  Pacchiarotto, 

The  pass  which  thy  project  has  got  to,    ' 

Of  trusting,  nigh  ashes  still  hot  —  tow ! 

(The  paraphrase — which  I  much  need  —  is 

From  Horace  ^per  ignes  incediV) 


AND  HOW  HE    WORKED  IN  DISTEMPER.    49 1 

17- 

Right  and  left  did  he  dash  helter-skelter 
In  agonized  search  of  a  shelter. 
No  purlieu  so  blocked  and  no  alley 
So  blind  as  allowed  him  to  rally 
His  spirits  and  see  —  nothing  hampered 
His  steps  if  he  trudged  and  not  scampered 
Up  here  and  down  there  in  a  city 
That's  all  ups  and  downs,  more  the  pity 
For  folks  who  would  outrun  the  constable. 
At  last  he  stopped  short  at  the  one  stable 
And  sure  place  of  refuge  that's  offered 
Humanity.     Lately  was  coffered 
A  corpse  in  its  sepulchre,  situate 
By  St.  John's  Observance.     "  Habituate 
Thyself  to  the  strangest  of  bedfellows. 
And,  kicked  by  the  live,  kiss  the  dead  fellows! 
So  Misery  counselled  the  craven. 
At  once  he  crept  safely  to  haven 
Through  a  hole  left  unbricked  in  the  structure. 
Ay,  Misery,  in  have  you  tucked  your 


492  OF  PACCHIAROTTO, 

Poor  client  and  left  him  conterminous 
With  —  pah  !  —  the  thing  fetid  and  verminous ! 
(I  gladly  would  spare  you  the  detail, 
But  History  writes  what  I  retail.) 

i8. 

Two  days  did  he  groan  in  his  domicile : 
"  Good  Saints,  set  me  free  and  I  promise  I'll 
Abjure  all  ambition  of  preaching 
Change,  whether  to  minds  touched  by  teaching 

—  The  smooth  folk  of  fancy,  mere  figments 
Created  by  plaster  and  pigments,  — 

Or  to  minds  that  receive  with  such  rudeness 
Dissuasion  from  pride,  greed  and  lewdness, 

—  The  rough  folk  of  fact,  life's  true  specimens 
Of  mind  —  *  haud  in  posse  sed  esse  mens ' 

As  it  was,  is  and  shall  be  forever 
Despite  of  my  utmost  endeavor. 

0  live  foes  I  thought  to  illumine, 
Henceforth  lie  untroubled  your  gloom  in  I 

1  need  my  own  light,  every  spark,  as 

I  couch  with  this  sole  friend  —  a  carcass  ! " 


AND  HOW  HE    WORKED  IN  DISTEMPER.    493 

19. 

Two  days  thus  he  maundered  and  rambled ; 
Then,  starved  back  to  sanity,  scrambled 
From  out  his  receptacle  loathsome. 
"  A  spectre  !  "  —  declared  upon  oath  some 
Who  saw  him  emerge  and  (appalling 
To  mention)  his  garments  a-crawling 
With  plagues  far  beyond  the  Egyptian. 
He  gained,  in  a  state  past  description 
A  convent  of  monks,  the  Observancy. 

20. 

Thus  far  is  a  fact :   I  reserve  fancy 
For  Fancy's  more  proper  employment : 
And  now  she  waves  wing  with  enjoyment, 
To  tell  ye  how  preached  the  Superior 
When  somewhat  our  painter's  exterior 
Was  sweetened.     He  needed  (no  mincing 
The  matter)  much  soaking  and  rinsing. 
Nay,  rubbing  with  drugs  odoriferous, 


494  OF  PACCHIAROTTO, 

Till,  rid  of  his  garments  pestiferous 

And  robed  by  the  help  of  the  Brotherhood 

In  odds  and  ends,  —  this  gown  and  t'other  hood,  — 

His  empty  inside  first  well-garnished,  — 

He  delivered  a  tale  round,  unvarnished. 

21. 

"  Ah,  Youth  1 "  so  might  run  the  admonishment, 
"Thine  error  scarce  moves  my  astonishment. 
For  —  why  shall  I  shrink  from  asserting  ?  — 
Myself  have  had  hopes  of  converting 
The  foolish  to  wisdom,  till,  sober. 
My  life  found  its  May  grow  October. 
I  talked  and  I  wrote,  but,  one  morning, 
Life's  Autumn  bore  fruit  in  this  warning: 
*  Let  tongue  rest,  afid  quiet  thy  quill  be  I 
Earth  is  earth  and  not  heaven,  and  ne'er  will  be.* 
Man's  work  is  to  labor  and  leaven  — 
As  best  he  may  —  earth  here  with  heaven ; 
'Tis  work  for  work's  sake  that  he's  needing: 
Let  him  work  on  and  on  as  if  speeding 


AND  HOW  HE    WORKED  IN  DISTEMPER.  49=5 

Work's  end,  but  not  dream  of  succeeding! 

Because  if  success  were  intended, 

Wliy,  heaven  would  begin  ere  earth  ended. 

A  Spare-Horse  ?     Be  rather  a  thill-horse, 

Or  —  what's  the  plain  truth — just  a  mill-horse! 

Earth's  a  mill  where  we  grind  and  wear  mufSers 

A  whip  awaits  shirkers  and  shufflers 

Who  slacken  their  pace,  sick  of  lugging 

At  what  don't  advance  for  their  tugging. 

Though  round  goes  the  mill,  we  must  still  post 

On  and  on  as  if  moving  the'  mill-post. 

So,  grind  away,  mouth-wise  and  pen-wise. 

Do  all  that  we  can  to  make  men  wise  ! 

And  if  men  prefer  to  be  foolish, 

Ourselves  have  proved  horse-like  not  mulish : 

Sent  grist,  a  good  sackful,  to  hopper, 

And  worked  as  the  Master  thought  proper. 

Tongue  I  wag,  pen  I  ply,  who  am  Abbot  ; 

Stick,  thou.  Son,  to  paint-brush  and  dab-pot! 

But,  soft !     I  scratch  hard  on  the  scab  hot  ? 

Though  cured  of  thy  plague,  there  may  lingei 


490  OF  PACCHTAROTTO, 

A  pimple  I  fray  with  rough  finger? 
So  soon  could  my  homily  transmute 
Thy  brass  into  gold  ?    Why,  the  man's  mute ! " 


"Ay,  Father,  I'm  mute  with  admiring 
How  Nature's  indulgence  untiring 
Still  bids  us  turn  deaf  ear  to  Reason's 
Best  rhetoric  —  clutch  at  all  seasons 
And  hold  fast  to  what's  proved  untenable! 
Thy  maxim  is  —  Man's  not  amenable 
To  argument :  whereof  by  consequence  — 
Thine  arguments  reach  me  :  a  non-sequence  I 
Yet  blush  not  discouraged,  O  Father ! 
I  stand  unconverted,  the  rather 
That  nowise  I  need  a  conversion. 
No  live  man  (I  cap  thy  assertion) 
By  argument  ever  could  take  hold 
Of  me.     'Twas  the  dead  thing,  the  clay-cold, 
Which  grinned  ^  Art  thou  so  in  a  hurry 
That  out  of  warm  light  thou  must  scurry 


AND  HOW  HE   WORKED  IN  DISTEMPER.  497 

And  join  7ne  down  here  in  the  dungeon 
Because.,  above,  on^s  jFack  and  one  —  yohn, 
On^s  swift  in  the  race,  one  —  a  hobbier, 
One's  a  crowned  king  and  one  —  a  capped  cobbler. 
Rich  and  poor,  sage  and  fool,  virtuous,  vicious  i 
Why  complain  7     Art  thou  so  unsuspieious 
That  alPs  for  an  hour  of  essaying 
Who's  fit  and  who's  unfit  for  playing    ^ 
His  part  in  the  after-construdion 
—  Heaven's  Piece  whereof  Earth's  the  Induction  i 
Things  rarely  go  smooth  at  Rehearsal. 
Wait  patient  the  change  universal. 
And  act,  and  let  cut,  in  existence! 
For,  as  thou  art  clapped  hence  or  hissed  hence. 
Thou  hast  thy  promotion  or  otherwise. 
And  why  must  wise  thou  have  thy  brother  wise 
Because  in  rehearsal  thy  cue  be 
To  shine  by  the  side  of  a  booby  ? 
No  polishing  garnet  to  ruby  t 
Airs  well  that  ends  well — through  Arfs  magic. 
Some  end,  whether  comic  or  tragic. 


4.98  OF  PACCHIAROTTO, 

The  Artist  has  purposed,  be  certain  I 
Explained  at  the  fall  of  the  curtain  — 
In  showing  thy  wisdom  at  odds  with 
TJiat  folly :  he  tries  men  and  gods  with 
No  problem  for  weak  wits  to  solve  meanty 
But  one  worth  such  Author's  evolvement. 
So,  bacK  nor  disturb  play's  production 
By  giving  thy  brother  instruction 
To  throw  up  his  fooFs-part  allotted/ 
Lest  haply  thyself  prove  besotted 
Wlien  stript,  for  thy  pains,  of  that  costume 
Of  sage,  which  has  bred  the  imposthume 
I  prick  to  relieve  thee  of, —  Vanity  P 


23- 

"So,  Father,  behold  me  in  sanity! 
I'm  back  to  the  paint-brush  and  mahlstick: 
And  as  for  Man  —  let  each  and  all  stick 
To  what  was  prescribed  them  at  starting! 
Once  planted  as  fools  —  no  departing 


AND  HOW  HE   WORKED  IN  DISTEMPER.   499 

From  folly  one  inch,  sceculorum 

In  sacula!    Pass  me  the  jorum, 

And  push  me  the  platter  —  my  stomach 

Retains,  through  its  fasting,  still  some  ache  — 

And  then,  with  your  kind  Benedicite, 

Good-by!" 


24. 

I  have  told  with  simplicity 
My  tale,  dropped  those  harsh  analytics, 
And  tried  to  content  you,  my  critics, 
Who  greeted  my  early  uprising ! 
I  knew  you  through  all  the  disguising. 
Droll  dogs,  as  I  jumped  up,  cried  "Heyday 
This  Monday  is  —  what  else  but  May-day 
And  these  in  the  drabs,  blues  and  yellows 
Are  surely  the  privileged  fellows. 
So,  saltbox  and  bones,  tongs  and  bellows  ! " 
(I  threw  up  the  window)  "Your  pleasure?" 


500  OF  PACCHIAROTTO, 

25- 

Then  he  who  directed  the  measure  — 
An  old  friend  —  put  leg  forward  nimbly, 
"  We  critics  as  sweeps  out  your  chimbly ! 
Much  soot  to  remove  from  your  flue  sir  1 
Who  spares  coal  in  kitchen  an't  you,  sir  1 
And  neighbors  complain  it's  no  joke,  sir, 
—  You  ought  to  consume  your  own  smoke,  sir  I" 

26. 

Ah,  rogues,  but  my  housemaid  suspects  you  — 
Is  confident  oft  she  detects  you 
In  bringing  more  filth  into  my  house 
Than  ever  you  found  there !     I'm  pious 
However :  'twas  God  made  you  dingy 
And  me  —  with  no  need  to  be  stingy 
Of  soap,  when  'tis  sixpence  the  packet. 
So,  dance  away,  boys,  dust  my  jacket, 
Bang  drum  and  blow  fife  —  ay,  and  rattle 
Your  brushes,  for  that's  half  the  battle ! 


AND  HOW  HE    WORKED  IN  DISTEMPER.   501 

Don't  trample  the  grass,  —  hocus-pocus 

With  grime  my  Spring  snow-drop  and  crocus,^ 

And,  what  with  your  rattling  and  tinkling, 

Who  knows  but  you  give  me  an  inkling 

How  music  sounds,  thanks  to  the  jangle 

Of  regular  drum  and  triangle  ? 

Whereby,  tap-tap,  chink-chink,  'tis  proven 

i  break  rule  as  bad  as  Beethoven. 

"  That  chord  now  —  a  groan  or  a  grunt  is't  ? 

Schumann's  self  was  no  worse  contrapuntist. 

No  ear!  or  if  ear,  so  tough-gristled  — 

He  thought  that  he  sung  while  he  whistled ! " 


27. 

So,  this  time  I  whistle,  not  sing  at  all, 
My  story,  the  largess  I  fling  at  all 
And  every  the  rough  there  whose  aubade 
Did  its  best  to  amuse  me,  —  nor  so  bad  1 
Take  my  thanks,  pick  up  largess,  and  scamper 
Off  free,  ere  your  mirth  gets  a  dampet  I 


5^2  OF  PACCfflAROTTO, 

You've  Monday,  your  one  day,  your  fun-day, 
While  mine  is  a  year  that's  all  Sunday. 
I've  seen  you,  times  —  who  knows  how  many?  — 
Dance  in  here,  strike  up,  play  the  zany. 
Make  mouths  at  the  Tenant,  hoot  warning 
You'll  find  him  decamped  next  May-morning; 
Then  scuttle  away,  glad  to  'scape  hence 
With  —  kicks  ?   no,  but  laughter  and  ha'pence  ! 
Mine's  freehold,  by  grace  of  the  grand  Lord 
Who  lets  out  the  ground  here, — my  landlord: 
To  him  I  pay  quit-rent  —  devotion  ; 
Nor  hence  shall  I  budge,  I've  a  notion, 
Nay,  here  shall  my  whistling  and  singing 
Set  all  his  street's  echoes  a-ringing 
Long  after  the  last  of  your  number 
Has  ceased  my  front-court  to  encumber 
While,  treading  down  rose  and  ranunculus, 
You  Tommy-make-room-for-your-Unde  us! 
Troop,  all  of  you  —  man  or  homunculus, 
Quick  march!   for  Xanthippe,  my  housemaid, 
If  once  on  your  pates  she  a  souse  made 


AND  HOW  HE    WORKED  IN  DISTEMPER.   503 

With  what,  pan  or  pot,  bowl  or  skoramis 

First  comes  to  her  hand  —  things  were  more  amiss  I 

I  would  not  for  worlds  be  your  place  in  — 

Recipient  of  slops  from  the  basin! 

You,  Jack-in-the-Green,  leaf-and-twiggishness 

Won't  save  a  dry  thread  on  your  priggish  ness ! 

While  as  for  Quilp-Hop-o'-my-thumb  there, 

Banjo-B)Ton  that  twangs  the  strum-strum  there  — 

He'll  think,  as  the  pickle  he  curses, 

I've  discharged  on  his  pate  his  own  verses  ! 

"  Dwarfs  are  saucy,"  says  Dickens :   so,  sauced  in 

Your  own  sauce,  .  .  .* 

28. 

But,  back  to  my  Knight  of  the  Pencil, 
Dismissed  to  his  fresco  and  stencil! 
Wliose  story  —  begun  with  a  chuckle, 
And  throughout  timed  by  raps  of  the  knuckle,  — 

•  No,  please  1    For 

"Who  would  be  satirical 
On  a  thing  so  very  small?" — Printer's  Dstil. 


504  OF  PACCHIAROTTOl 

To  small  enough  purpose  were  studied 

If  it  ends  with  crown  cracked  or  nose  bloodied. 

Come,  critics,  —  not  shake  hands,  excuse  me  1 

But  —  say  have  you  grudged  to  amuse  me 

This  once  in  the  forty-and-over 

Long  years  since  you  trampled  my  clover 

And  scared  from  my  house-eaves  each  sparrow 

I  never  once  harmed  by  that  arrow 

Of  song,  karterotaton  belos, 

(Which  Pindar  declares  the  true  melos) 

I  was  forging  and  filing  and  finishing. 

And  no  whit  my  labors  diminishing 

Because,  though  high  up  in  a  chamber 

Where  none  of  your  kidney  may  clamber 

Your  hullabaloo  would  approach  me  ? 

Was  it  "  grammar  "  wherein  you  would  "  coach  "  me  — 

You,  —  pacing  in  even  that  paddock 

Of  language  allotted  you  ad  hoc. 

With  a  clog  at  your  fetlocks,  —  you  —  scorners 

Of  me  free  of  all  its  four  corners  ? 

Was  it  "  clearness  of  words  which  convey  thought  ? 


AND  HOW  HE    WORKED  IN  DISTEMPER.   505 

Ay,  if  words  never  needed  enswathe  aught 

But  ignorance,  impudence,  envy 

And  malice  —  what  word-swathe  would  then  vie 

With  yours  for  a  clearness  crystalline  ? 

But  had  you  to  put  in  one  small  line 

Some  thought  big  and  bouncing  —  as  noddle 

Of  goose,  born  to  cackle  and  waddle 

And  bite  at  man's  heel  as  goose-wont  is, 

Never  felt  plague  its  puny  os  frontis — 

You'd  know,  as  you  hissed,  spat  and  sputtered. 

Clear  "  quack-quack "  is  easily  uttered  1 


29. 

Lo,  I've  laughed  out  my  laugh  on  this  mirtli-day  I 
Beside,  at  week's  end,  dawns  my  birth-day, 
That  hebdome,  hieron  emar — 
(More  things  in  a  day  than  you  deem  are !) 
—  Tei  gar  ApoUona  chrusaora 
Egeinato  Leto.     So,  gray  or  ray 
Betide  me,  six  days  hence,  I'm  vexed  here 


5o6  OF  PACCHIAROTTO. 

By  no  sweep,  that's  certain,  till  next  year! 

"  Vexed  ? "  —  roused  from  what  else  were  insipid  ease 

Leave  snoring  a-bed  to  Pheidippides ! 

We'll  up  and  workl  won't  we,  Euriprdes? 


AT  THE  *  mermaid:  gpy 


AT  THE   'MERMAID.' 

The  figure  that  thou  here  seest  .  .  Tut  I 
Was  it  for  gentle  Shakespeare  put? 

B.  JoNSON.    (Adapted^ 


I  —  "Next  Poet?"     No,  my  hearties, 

I  nor  am  nor  fain  would  bel 
Choose  your  chiefs  and  pick  your  parties. 

Not  one  soul  revolt  to  me! 
I,  forsooth,  sow  song- sedition  ? 

I,  a  schism  in  verse  provoke  ? 
I,  blown  up  by  bard's  ambition, 

Burst — your  bubble-king?     You  joke. 


Come,  be  grave !  The  sherris  mantling 
Still  about  each  mouth,  mayhap. 

Breeds  you  insight  —  just  a  scantling  — 
Brings  me  truth  out  —  just  a  scrap. 


5o8  AT  THE  *  mermaid: 

Look  and  tell  me  !  Written,  spoken, 
Here's  my  life-long  work:   and  where 

—  Where's  your  warrant  or  my  token 
I'm  the  dead  king's  son  and  heir? 


3- 

Here's  my  work:   does  work  discover 

What  was  rest  from  work  —  my  life? 
Did  I  live  man's  hater,  lover? 

Leave  the  world  at  peace,  at  strife  ? 
Call  earth  ugliness  or  beauty  ? 

See  things  there  in  large  or  small? 
Use  to  pay  its  Lord  my  duty? 

Use  to  own  a  lord  at  all  ? 

4. 

Blank  of  such  a  record,  truly, 

Here's  the  work  I  hand,  this  scroll. 

Yours  to  take  or  leave  ;   as  duly, 
Mine  remains  the  unproffered  soul. 


AT  THE   'MERMAID.'  509 

So  much,  no  whit  more,  my  debtors  — 
How  should  "one  like  me  lay  claim 

To  that  largess  elders,  betters 

Sell  you  cheap  their  souls  for  —  fame? 

5- 
Which  of  you  did  I  enable 

Once  to  slip  inside  my  breast 
There  to  catalogue  and  label 

What  I  like  least,  what  love  best, 
Hope  and  fear,  believe  and  doubt  of, 

Seek  and  shun,  respect  —  deride  ? 
Who  has  right  to  make  a  rout  of 

Rarities  he  found  inside? 

6. 

Rarities  or,  as  he'd  rather. 

Rubbish  such  as  stocks  his  own : 

Need  and  greed  (O  strange)  the  Father 
Fashioned  not  for  him  alone ! 


510  AT  THE  'MERMAID.' 

Whence  —  the  comfort  set  a-strutting, 
Whence  —  the  outcry  "  Haste,  behold  ! 

Bard's  breast  open  wide,  past  shutting, 
Shows  what  brass  we  took  for  gold  1 " 

7- 
Friends,  I  doubt  not  he'd  display  you 

Brass  —  myself  call  oreichalch, — 
Furnish  much  amusement ;   pray  you 

Therefore,  be  content  I  balk 
Him  and  you,  and  bar  my  portal ! 

Here's  my  work  outside :   opine 
What's  inside  me  mean  and  mortal ! 

Take  your  pleasure,  leave  me  mine! 

8. 

Which  is  —  not  to  buy  your  laurel 
As  last  king  did,  nothing  loath. 

Tale  adorned  and  pointed  moral 
Gained  him  praise  and  pity  both. 


AT  THE   'MERMAID:  511 

Out  rushed  sighs  and  groans  by  dozens, 
Forth  by  scores  oaths,  curses  flew 

Proving  you  were  cater-cousins, 
Kith  and  kindred,  king  and  you  1 

9- 

Whereas  do  I  ne'er  so  little 

(Thanks  to  sherris)  leave  ajar 
Bosom's  gate — no  jot  nor  tittle 

Grow  we  nearer  than  we  are. 
Sinning,  sorrowing,  despairing, 

Body-ruined,  spirit-wrecked, — 
Should  I  give  my  woes  an  airing,  — 

Where's  one  plague  that  claims  respect? 


Have  you  found  your  life  distasteful  ? 

My  life  did  and  does  smack  sweet. 
Was  your  youth  of  pleasure  wasteful? 

Mine  I  saved  and  hold  complete. 


512  AT  THE  'mermaid: 

Do  your  joys  with  age  diminish? 

When  mine  fail  me,  I'll  complain. 
Must  in  death  your  daylight  finish? 

My  sun  sets  to  rise  again. 

II. 

What,  like  you,  he  proved  —  your  Pilgrim - 

This  our  world  a  wilderness, 
Earth  still  gray  and  heaven  still  grim. 

Not  a  hand  there  his  might  press, 
Not  a  heart  his  own  might  throb  to. 

Men  all  rogues  and  women  —  say, 
Dolls  which  boys'  heads  duck  and  bob  to, 

Grown  folk  drop  or  throw  away? 

12. 

My  experience  being  other, 
How  should  I  contribute  verse 

Worthy  of  your  king  and  brother  ? 
Balaam-like  I  bless,  not  curse. 


AT  THE  'MERMAID.'  5*3 

1  find  earth  not  gray  but  rosy, 
Heaven  not  grim  but  fair  of  hue. 

Do  I  stoop  ?    I  pluck  a  posy. 

Do  I  stand  and  stare?     All's  blue. 

Doubtless  I  am  pushed  and  shoved  by 

Rogues  and  fools  enough :   the  more 
Good  luck  mine,  I  love,  am  loved  by 

Some  few  honest  to  the  core. 
Scan  the  near  high,  scout  the  far  low! 

"  But  the  low  come  close :  "  what  then  ? 
Simpletons?     My  match  is  Mariowe; 

Sciolists?     My  mate  is  Ben. 

14. 

Womankind  —  "the  cat-like  nature. 
False  and  fickle,  vain  and  weak  "  — 

Wliat  of  this  sad  nomenclature 

Suits  my  tonguj,  if  I  must  speak? 


514  AT  THE  'mermaid: 

Does  the  sex  invite,  repulse  so, 
Tempt,  betray,  by  fits  and  starts? 

So  becalm  but  to  convulse  so, 

Decking  heads  and  breaking  hearts? 

15. 

Well  may  you  blaspheme  at  fortune  I 

I  "  threw  Venus  "  (Ben,  expound  1) 
*Never  did  I  need  importune 

Her,  of  all  the  Olympian  round. 
Blessings  on  my  benefactress  1 

Cursings  suit  —  for  aught  I  know  — 
Those  who  twitched  her  by  the  back  tress, 

Tugged  and  thought  to  turn  her  —  so  I 

Therefore,  since  no  leg  to  stand  on 
Thus  I'm  left  with, — joy  or  grief 

Be  the  issue,  —  I  abandon 

Hope  or  care  you  name  me  Chief! 


AT  THE  'Mermaid:  515 

Chief  and  king  and  Lord's  anointed, 

I  ?  —  who  never  once  have  wished 
Death  before  the  day  appointed : 

Lived  and  liked,  not  poohed  and  pished ! 

17- 

"Ah,  but  so  I  shall  not  enter. 

Scroll  in  hand,  the  common  heart  — 
Stopped  at  surface :   since  at  centre 

Song  should  reach    Weit-schmerz,  world-smart ! " 
•'Enter  in  the  heart?"     Its  shelly 

Cuirass  guard  mine,  fore  and  aft! 
Such  song  "  enters  in  the  belly 

And  is  cast  out  in  the  draught." 

18. 

Back  then  to  our  sherris-brewage ! 

"  Kingship  "  quotha  ?     I  shall  wait  — 
Waive  the  present  time  :    some  new  age  .  .  . 

But  let  fools  anticipate  I 


5i6  AT  THE  'mermaid: 

Meanwhile  greet  me  —  "friend,  good  fellow, 
Gentle  Will,"  my  merry  men  1 

As  for  making  Envy  yellow 
With  "Next  Poet "  — (Manners,  Ben!) 


HOUSE.  ^17 


HOUSE. 


Shall  I  sonnet-sing  you  about  myself? 

Do  I  live  in  a  house  you  would  like  to  vse  ? 
Is  it  scant  of  gear,  has  it  store  of  pelf? 

"Unlock  my  heart  with  a  sonnet-key?" 


Invite  the  world,  as  my  betters  have  done? 

"  Take  notice :    this  building  remains  on  view, 
Its  suites  of  reception  every  one. 

Its  private  apartment  and  bedroom  too ; 

3- 

"  For  a  ticket,  apply  to  the  Publisher." 
No :  thanking  the  public,  I  must  decline. 

A  peep  through  my  window,  if  folks  prefer ; 
But,  please  you,  no  foot  over  threshold  of  mine! 


5i8  HOUSE, 


4. 

I  have  mixed  with  a  crowd  and  heard  free  talk 
In  a  foreign  land  where  an  earthquake  chanced 

And  a  house  stood  gaping,  nought  to  balk 
Man's  eye  wherever  he  gazed  or  glanced. 

5- 

The  whole  of  the  frontage  shaven  sheer, 
The  inside  gaped :    exposed  to  day, 

Right  and  wrong  and  common  and  queer, 
Bare,  as  the  palm  of  your  hand,  it  lay. 


The  owner  ?     Oh,  he  had  been  crushed,  no  doubt ! 

"  Odd  tables  and  chairs  for  a  man  of  wealth  I 
What  a  parcel  of  musty  old  books  about! 

He  smoked,  —  no  wonder  he  lost  his  health  I 


HOUSE.  519 


7. 

"  I  doubt  if  he  bathed  before  he  dressed. 

A  brazier?  —  the  pagan,  he  burned  perfumes! 
You  see  it  is  proved,  what  the  neighbors  guessed ; 

His  wife  and  himself  had  separate  rooms." 

8. 

Friends,  the  goodman  of  the  house  at  least 

Kept  house  to  himself  till  an  earthquake  came : 

'Tis  the  fall  of  its  frontage  permits  you  feast 
On  the  inside  arrangement  you  praise  or  blame. 

9- 

Outside  should  suffice  for  evidence : 

And  whoso  desires  to  penetrate 
Deeper,  must  dive  by  the  spirit-sense  — 

No  optics  like  yours,  at  any  rate! 


520  HOUSE. 


"  Hoity  toity  !     A  street  to  explore, 

Your  house  the  exception  !     *  With  this  same  key 
Shakespeare  unlocked  his  heai't,^  once  more !  " 

Did  Shakespeare  ?     If  so,  the  less  Shakespeare  he  I 


SHOP. 


S2> 


SHOP. 

I. 

So,  friend,  your  shop  was  all  your  house} 
Its  front,  astonisliing  the  street, 

Invited  view  from  man  and  mouse 
To  what  diversity  of  treat 
Behind  its  glass  —  the  single  sheet  1 


What  gimcracks,  genuine  Japanese : 
Gape-jaw  and  goggle-eye,  the  frog; 

Dragons,  owls,  monke3's,  beetles,  gees6  j 
Some  crush-nosed  human-hearted  dog: 
Queer  names,  too,  such  a  catalogue  1 


522  SHOP.         > 

3' 

I  thought  "  And  he  who  owns  the  wealth 
Which  blocks  the  window's  vastitude, 

—  Ah,  could  I  peep  at  him  by  stealth 
Behind  his  ware,  pass  shop,  intrude 
On  house  itself,  what  scenes  were  viewed  I 

4- 

"If  wide  and  showy  thus  the  shop, 
What  must  the  habitation  prove  ? 

The  true  house  with  no  name  a-top  — 
The  mansioti,  distant  one  remove, 
Once  get  him  off  his  traffic-grove  1 

5- 

"  Pictures  he  likes,  or  books  perhaps ; 
And  as  for  buying  most  and  best, 

Commend  me  to  these  city  chaps ! 
Or  else  he's  social,  takes  his  rest 
On  Sundays,  with  a  Lord  for  guest. 


SHOP.  523 


6. 


"Some  suburb-palace,  parked  about 
And  gated  grandly,  built  last  year: 

The  four-mile  walk  to  keep  off  gout ; 
Or  big  seat  sold  by  bankrupt  peer: 
But  then  he  takes  the  rail,  that's  clear. 

7- 

"  Or,  stop !     I  wager,  taste  selects 

Some  out  o'  the  way,  some  all-unknown 

Retreat :   the  neighborhood  suspects 
Little  that  he  who  rambles  lone 
Makes  Rothschild  tremble  on  his  throne!" 

8. 

Nowise  !     Nor  Mayfair  residence 
Fit  to  receive  and  entertain, — 

Nor  Hampstead  villa's  kind  defence 

From  noise  and  crowd,  from  dust  and  drain,' 
Nor  country-box  was  soul's  domain! 


524  SHOP. 

9- 

Nowise !     At  back  of  all  that  spread 
Of  merchandise,  woe's  me,  I  find 

A  hole  i'  the  wall  where,  heels  by  head, 
The  owner  couched,  his  ware  behind, 
—  In  cupboard  suited  to  his  mind. 

« 

lO. 

For  why?     He  saw  no  use  of  life 
But,  while  he  drove  a  roaring  trade. 

To  chuckle  "  Customers  are  rife  1 " 

To  chafe  "  So  much  hard  cash  outlaid 
Yet  zero  in  my  profits  made  ! 


"This  novelty  costs  pains,  but  —  takes? 
Cumbers  my  counter  !     Stock  no  more  I 

This  article,  no  such  great  shakes, 
Fizzes  like  wild  fire  ?    Underscore 
The  cheap  thing  —  thousands  to  the  fore  I' 


SHOP.  525 


12. 


Twas  lodging  best  to  live  most  ni^ 
(Cramp,  coflBnIike  as  crib  might  be) 

Receipt  of  Custom  ;  ear  and  eye 

Wanted  no  outworld :   "  Hear  and  see 
The  bustle  in  the  shop  1 "  quoth  he. 

^^ 

My  fancy  of  a  merchant-prince 

Was  different.     Through  his  wares  we  groped 
Our  darkling  way  to  —  not  to  mince 

The  matter  —  no  black  den  where  moped 

The  master  if  we  interloped ! 

Shop  was  shop  only:   household-stuff? 

What  did  he  want  with  comforts  there? 
•*  Walls,  ceiling,  floor,  stay  blank  and  rough, 

So  goods  on  sale  show  rich  and  rare! 

^-Sell  and  scud  home^  be  shop's  affair!*' 


526  SHOP. 

15- 

What  might  he  deal  in  ?     Gems,  suppose  1 
Since  somehow  business  must  be  done 

At  cost  of  trouble,  —  see,  he  throws 
You  choice  of  jewels,  every  one 
Good,  better,  best,  star,  moon  and  sunl 

i6. 

Which  lies  within  your  power  of  purse  ? 
This  ruby  that  would  tip  aright 

Solomon's  sceptre?     Oh,  your  nurse 
Wants  simply  coral,  the  delight 
Of  teething  baby,  —  stuff  to  bitel 

17. 

Howe'er  your  choice  fell,  straight  you  took 
Your  purchase,  prompt  your  money  rang 

On  counter,  —  scarce  the  man  forsook 
His  study  of  the  "  Times,"  just  swang 
Till-ward  his  hand  that  stopped  the  clang, 


SHOP.  527 


18. 


Then  off  made  buyer  with  a  prize, 
Then  seller  to  his  "  Times  "  returned, 

And  so  did  day  wear,  wear,  till  eyes 
Brightened  apace,  for  rest  was  earned : 
He  locked  door  long  ere  candle  burned. 

19. 

And  whither  went  he  ?     Ask  himself. 
Not  me  1     To  change  of  scene,  I  think. 

Once  sold  the  ware  and  pursed  the  pelf. 
Chaffer  was  scarce  his  meat  and  drink, 
Nor  all  his  music  —  money-chink. 

20. 

Because  a  man  has  shop  to  mind 

In  time  and  place,  since  flesh  must  live. 

Needs  spirit  lack  all  life  behind. 
All  stray  thoughts,  fancies  fugitive, 
All  loves  except  what  trade  can  ^ive  ? 


528  SHOP. 


21. 

I  want  to  know  a  butcher  paints, 
A  baker  rhymes  for  his  pursuit, 

Candlestick-maker  much  acquaints 
His  soul  with  song,  or,  haply  mute. 
Blows  out  his  brains  upon  the  flute! 

22. 

But — shop  each  day  and  all  day  longl 
Friend,  your  good  angel  slept,  your  star 

Suffered  eclipse,  fate  did  you  wrong! 
From  where  these  sorts  of  treasures  are, 
There  should  our  hearts  be  —  Christ,  how  far  I 


PISGAH-SIGHTS.  5^9 


PISGAH-SIGHTS.     I. 

I. 

Over  the  ball  of  % 

Peering  and  prying, 
How  I  see  all  of  it, 

Life  there,  outlying! 
Roughness  and  smoothness^ 

Shine  and  defilement, 
Grace  and  uncouthness: 

One  reconcilement 

2. 

Orbed  as  appointed. 
Sister  with  brother 

Joins,  ne'er  disjointed 
One  from  the  other. 


53°  PISGAH-SIGHTS. 

All's  lend-and-borrow ; 

Good,  see,  wants  evil, 
Joy  demands  sorrow, 

Angel  weds  devil  1 

3- 

"Which  things  must — why  be?" 

Vain  our  endeavor ! 
So  shall  things  aye  be 

As  they  were  ever. 
"Such  things  should  so  bel" 

Sage  our  desistence ! 
Rough-smooth  let  globe  be. 

Mixed  —  man's  existence! 


4- 

Man  —  wise  and  foolish. 
Lover  and  scorner. 

Docile  and  mulish  — 
Keep  each  his  coiner! 


PISGAff-SIGHTS.  'Ml 

Honey  yet  gall  of  it! 

There's  the  life  lyin^ 
And  I  see  all  of  it, 

Oaly,  I'm  dying  I 


TS32  PISGAH-SIGHTS. 


PISGAH-SIGHTS.    2. 

I. 

Could  I  but  live  again, 

Twice  my  life  over, 
Would  I  once  strive  again? 

Would  not  I  cover 
Quietly  all  of  it  — 

Greed  and  ambition  — 
So,  from  the  pall  of  i^ 

Pass  to  fruition? 

2. 

«  Soft !  "  I'd  say,  «  Soul  mine  I 
Three-score  and  ten  years, 

Let  the  blind  mole  mine 
Digging  out  deniers  I 


PISGAH-SIGHTS.  533 

Let  the  dazed  hawk  soar, 

Claim,  the  sun's  rights  tool 
Turf  'tis  thy  walk's  o'er, 

Foliage  thy  flight's  to." 

3- 

Only  a  learner, 

Quick  one  or  slow  one, 
Just  a  discerner, 

I  would  teach  no  one. 
I  am  earth's  native: 

No  re-arranging  it ! 
/  be  creative. 

Chopping  and  changing  it  ? 

4. 
March,  men,  my  fellows  I 

Those  who,  above  me, 
(Distance  so  mellows) 

Fancy  you  love  me : 


534  PISGAH-SIGHTS. 

Those  who,  below  me, 

(Distance  makes  great  so) 
Free  to  forego  me. 
Fancy  you  hate  so ! 


Praising,  reviling, 

Worst  head  and  best  head. 
Past  me  defiling. 

Never  arrested, 
Wanters,  abounders, 

March,  in  gay  fixture, 
Men,  my  surrounders  I 

I  am  the  fixture. 

6. 

So  shall  I  fear  thee, 

Mightiness  yonder! 
Mock-sun  —  more  near  thee. 

What  is  to  wonder? 


PISGAHSIGHTS.  SiS 

So  shall  I  love  thee, 

Down  in  the  dark,  —  lest 
Glowworm  I  prove  thee^ 

Star  that  now  sparkiest  I 


536  FEARS  AND  SCRUPLES. 


FEARS  AND   SCRUPLES. 

I. 

Here's  my  case.    Of  old  I  used  to  love  him, 
This  same  unseen  friend,  before  I  knew: 

Dream  there  was  none  like  him,  none  above  him,- 
Wake  to  hope  and  trust  my  dream  was  true. 

2. 

Loved  I  not  his  letters  full  of  beauty? 

Not  his  actions  famous  far  and  wide? 
Absent,  he  would  know  I  vowed  him  duty, 

Present,  he  would  find  me  at  his  side. 

3- 

Pleasant  fancy  1  for  I  had  but  letters, 

Only  knew  of  actions  by  hearsay: 
He  himself  was  busied  with  my  betters; 

What  of  that?    My  turn  must  come  some  day. 


PEARS  AND  SCRUPLES.  537 

4- 
"  Some  day"  proving — no  day!     Here's  the  puzzle. 

Passed  and  passed  my  turn  is.     Why  complain? 
He's  so  busied !     If  I  could  but  muzzle 

People's  foolish  mouths  that  give  me  pain ! 

5- 
"  Letters  ? "  (hear  them  !)     "  You  a  judge  of  writing  r 

Ask  the  experts !     How  they  shake  the  head 
O'er  these  characters,  your  friend's  inditing  — 

Call  them  forgery  from  A.  to  Z. ! 

6. 
"  Actions  ?    Where's  your  certain  proof  "  (they  bother) 

"He,  of  all  you  find  so  great  and  good. 
He,  he  only,  claims  this,  that,  the  other 

Action  —  claimed  by  men,  a  miUtitude?" 

7- 
I  can  simply  wish  I  might  refute  you. 

Wish  my  friend  would,  —  by  a  word,  a  wink, — 
Bid  me  stop  that  foolish  mouth,  —  you  brute  you ! 

He  keeps  absent,  —  why,  I  cannot  think. 


538  FEARS  AND  SCRUPLES. 

8. 

Never  mind  !     Though  foolishness  may  flout  me, 
One  thing's  sure  enough :   'tis  neither  frost, 

No,  nor  fire,  shall  freeze  or  burn  from  out  me 
Thanks    for    truth  —  though    falsehood,    gained  — 
though  lost 

9- 

All  my  days,  I'll  go  the  softlier,  sadlier, 

For  that  dream's  sake  1     How  forget  the  thrill 

Through  and  through  me  as  I  thought  "  The  gladlier 
Lives  my  friend  because  I  love  him  still ! " 

10. 

Ah,  but  there's  a  menace  some  one  utters ! 

"What  and  if  your  friend  at  home  play  tricks? 
Peep  at  hide-and-seek  behind  the  shutters? 

Mean  your  eyes  should  pierce  through  solid  bricks  ? 

II. 

"What  and  if  he,  frowning,  wake  you,  dreamy 
Lay  on  you  the  blame  that  bricks  —  conceal  ? 

Say  ^  At  least  I  saw  who  did  not  see  me. 
Docs  see  now,  and  presently  shall  feel  V^* 


FEARS  AND  SCRUPLES.  539 


12. 

"Why,  that  makes  your  friend  a  monster!"  say  you: 
"  Had  his  house  no  window  ?     At  first  nod, 

Would  you   not  have  hailed  him?"     Hush,   I  pray 
you ! 
What  if  this  friend  happen  to  be — God? 


1^' 


NATURAL  MAGIC. 


NATURAL  MAGIC. 

X. 

All  I  can  say  is  —  I  saw  it! 

The  room  was  as  bare  as  your  hand. 

I  locked  in  the  swarth  little  lady,  —  I  swear, 

From  the  head   to   the   foot   of   her  —  well,  quite    as 

bare  I 
"No   Nautch   shall  cheat  me,"   said   I,   "taking  my 

stand 
At    this    bolt   which    I   draw  1 "     And    this   bolt  —  I 

withdraw  it. 
And  there  laughs  the  lady,  not  bare,  but  embowered 
With  —  who   knows   what   verdure,    o'erfruited,   o'er 

flowered  ? 
Impossible  1     Only  —  I  saw  it  I 


NATURAL  MAGIC.  54^ 


2. 


All  I  can  sing  is  —  I  feel  it! 

This  life  was  as  blank  as  that  room  ; 

I  let  you  pass  in  here.     Precaution,  indeed  ? 

Walls,  ceiling  and  floor,  —  not  a  chance  for  a  weed ! 

Wide  opens  the  entrance :  where's  cold  now,  where's 
gloom  ? 

No  May  to  sow  seed  here,  no  June  to  reveal  it, 

Behold  you  enshrined  in  these  blooms  of  your  bring- 
ing, 

These  fruits  of  your  bearing — nay,  birds  of  your 
winging ! 

A  fairy-tale  1    Only  —  I  feel  it  1 


$42  MAGICAL  NATURE. 


MAGICAL  NATURE. 

I. 

Flower — I  never  fancied,  jewel  —  I  profess  you  I 
Bright  I    see    and  soft    I   feel  the    outside    of  a 
flower. 
Save  but  glow  inside   and — jewel,  I   should  guess 
you, 
Dim  to  sight  and  rough  to  touch:    the  glory  is 
the  dower. 

You,  forsooth,  a  flower?    Nay,  my  love,  a  jewel  — 
Jewel  at  no  mercy  of  a  moment  in  your  prime! 

Time    may  fray  the   flower-face:    kind  be   time    or 
cruel, 
Jewel,  from  each  facet,  flash  your  laugh  at  time  1 


BIFURCATION.  543 


BIFURCATION. 

We  were  two  lovers ;  let  me  lie  by  her, 

My  tomb  beside  her  tomb.     On  hers  inscribe  — 

"  I  loved  him  ;  but  my  reason  bade  prefer 

Duty  to  love,  reject  the  tempter's  bribe 

Of  rose  and  lily  when  each  path  diverged. 

And  either  I  must  pace  to  life's  far  end 

As  love  should  lead  me,  or,  as  duty  urged, 

Plod  the  worn  causeway  arm  in  arm  with  friend. 

So,  truth  turned  falsehood  :   *  How  I  loathe  a  flower^ 

How  prize  the,  pavement  /*  still  caressed  his  ear  — 

The   deafish   friend's  —  through   life's    day,   hour   by 

hour, 
As  he  laughed  (coughing)  *  Ay,  it  would  appear  P 
But  deep  within  my  heart  of  hearts  there  hid 
Ever  the  confidence,  amends  for  all. 
That  heaven  repairs  what  MTong  earth's  journey  did, 
When  love  from  life-long  exile  comes  at  call. 


544  BIFURCATION. 

Duty  and  love,  one  broadway,  were  the  best  — 
Who  doubts  ?    But  one  or  other  was  to  choose. 
I  chose  the  darkling  half,  and  wait  the  rest 
In  that  new  world  where  light  and  darkness  fuse." 

Inscribe  on  mine  —  "I  loved  her :  love's  track  lay 
O'er  sand  and  pebble,  as  all  travellers  know. 
Duty  led  through  a  smiling  country,  gay 
With  greensward  where  the  rose  and  lily  blow. 
'  Our  roads  are  diverse :  farewell,  love ! '   said  she  : 
'  ^Tis  duty  I  abide  by :  homely  sward 
And  not  the  rock-rough  picturesque  for  me  I 
Above,  where  both  roads  join,  I  wait  reward. 
Be  you  as  constant  to  the  path  whereon 
I  leave  you  planted P     But  man  needs  must  mo 'e, 
Keep  moving  —  whither,  when  the  star  is  gone 
Whereby  he  steps  secure  nor  strays  from  love  ? 
No  stone  but  I  was  tripped  by,  stumbling-block 
But  brought  me  to  confusion.     Where  I  fell, 
There  I  lay  flat,  if  moss  disguised  the  rock. 
Thence,  if  flint  pierced,  I  rose  and  cried  ^ AlP swell r 


BIFURCATION.  545 

Duty  he  mine  to  tread  in  that  high  sphere 

Where  love  from  duty  n^er  disparts,  I  trust, 

^nd  two  halves  make  that  whole,  whereof — since  here 

One  must  suffice. a  man  —  why,  this  one  must/'" 

Inscribe  each  tomb  thus :  then,  some  sage  acquaint 
The  simple  —  which  holds  sinner,  which  holds  saint  1 


54^  NUMPHOLEPTOS. 


NUMPHOLEPTOS. 

Still  you  stand,  still  you  listen,  still  you  smile! 
Still  melts  your  moonbeam  through  me,  white  awhile, 
Softening,  sweetening,  till  sweet  and  soft 
Increase  so  round  this  heart  of  mine,  that  oft 
I  could  believe  your  moonbeam-smile  has  past 
The  pallid  limit  and,  transformed  at  last. 
Lies,  sunlight  and  salvation  —  warms  the  soul 
It  sweetens,  softens !    Would  you  pass  that  goal, 
Gain  love's  birth  at  the  limit's  happier  verge, 
And,  where  an  iridescence  lurks,  but  urge 
The  hesitating  pallor  on  to  prime 
Of  dawn  1  —  true  blood-streaked,  sun-warmth,  action- 
time, 
By  heart-pulse  ripened  to  a  ruddy  glow 
Of  gold  above  my  clay  —  I  scarce  should  know 


NUMPHOLEPTOS.  54} 

From  gold's  self,   thus  suffused !      For   gold  mean 

love. 
UTiat  means  the  sad  slow  silver  smile  above 
My  clay  but  pity,  pardon?  —  at  the  best^ 
But  acquiescence  that  I  take  my  rest, 
Contented  to  be  clay,  while  in  your  heaven 
The  sun  reserves  love  for  the  Spirit-Seven 
Companioning  God's  throne  thej^  lamp  before, 
—  Leaves  earth  a  mute  waste  only  wandered  o'er 
By  that  pale  soft  sweet  disempassioned  moon 
Which  smiles  me  slow  forgiveness!     Such,  the  boon 
I  beg?    Nay,  dear,  submit  to  tliis — just  this 
Supreme  endeavor!     As  my  lips  new  kiss 
Your  feet,  my  arms  convulse  your  shrouding  robe. 
My  eyes,  acquainted  with  the  dust,  dare  probe 
Your  eyes  above  for  —  what,  if  bom,  would  blind 
Mine  with  redundant  bliss,  as  flash  may  find 
The  inert  nerve,  sting  awake  the  palsied  limb. 
Bid  with  life's  ecstasy  sense  overbrim 
And  suck  back  death  in  the  resurging  joy  — 
Love,  the  love  whole  and  sole  without  alloy  1 


548  NUMPHOLEPTOS. 

Vainly!    The  promise  withers!     I  employ 

Lips,  arms,  eyes,   pray   the    prayer   which    finds    the 

word, 
Make  the  appeal  which  must  be  felt,  not  heard, 
And  none  the  more  is  changed  your  calm  regard: 
Rather,  its  sweet  and  soft  grow  harsh  and  hard  — 
Forbearance,  then  repulsion,  then  disdain. 
Avert  the  rest!    I  rise,  see!  —  make,  again 
Once  more,  the  old  departure  for  some  track 
Untried  yet  through  a  world  which  brings  me  back 
Ever  thus  fruitlessly  to  find  your  feet, 
To  fix  your  eyes,  to  pray  the  soft  and  sweet 
Which  smile  there  —  take  from  his  new  pilgrimage 
Your  outcast,  once  your  inmate,  and  assuage 
With  love  —  not  placid  pardon  now  —  his  thirst 
For  a  mere  drop  from  out  the  ocean  erst 
He  drank  at !    Well,  the  quest  shall  be  renewed. 
Fear  nothing!     Though  I  linger,  unimbued 
With  any  drop,  my  lips  thus  close.     I  go ! 
So  did  I  leave  you,  I  have  found  you  so, 
And  doubtlessly,  if  fated  to  return. 


NUMPHOLEPTOS.  549 

So  shall  my  pleading  persevere  and  earn 
Pardon  —  not  love  in  that  same  smile,  I  learn. 
And  lose  the  meaning  of,  to  learn  once  more, 
Vainly  1 

What  fairy  track  do  I  explore  ? 
What  magic  hall  return  to,  like  the  gem 
Centuply-angled  o'er  a  diadem  ?  * 
You  dwell  there,  hearted  ;   from  your  midmost  home 
Rays  forth  —  through  that  fantastic  world  I  roam 
Ever  —  from  centre  to  circumference, 
Shaft  upon  colored  shaft :   this  crimsons  thence, 
That  purples  out  its  precinct  through  the  waste. 
Surely  I  had  your  sanction  when  I  faced, 
Fared  forth  upon  that  untried  yellow  ray 
Whence  I  retrack  my  steps  ?    They  end  to-day 
Where  they  began,  before  your  feet,  beneath 
Your  eyes,  your  smile:   the  blade  is  shut  in  sheath. 
Fire  quenched  in  flint ;   irradiation,  late 
Triumphant  through  the  distance,  finds  its  fate. 
Merged  m  your  blank  pure  soul,  alike  the  source 


SSO  NUMPHOLEPTOS. 

And  tomb  of  that  prismatic  glow:   divorce 

Absolute,  all-conclusive  !     Forth  I  fared, 

Treading  the  lambent  flamelet:   little  cared 

If  now  its  flickering  took  the  topaz  tint, 

If  now  my  dull-caked  path  gave  sulphury  hint 

Of  subterranean  rage  —  no  stay  nor  stint 

To  yellow,  since  you  sanctioned  that  I  bathe, 

Burnish  me,  soul  and  body,  swim  and  swathe 

In  yellow  license.     Here  I  reek  suffused 

With  crocus,  saffron,  orange,  as  I  used 

With  scarlet,  purple,  every  dye  o'  the  bow 

Born  of  the  storm-cloud.     As  before,  you  show 

Scarce  recognition,  no  approval,  some 

Mistrust,  more  wonder  at  a  man  become 

Monstrous  in  garb,  nay  —  flesh  disguised  as  well, 

Through  his  adventure.     Whatsoe'er  befell, 

I  followed,  wheresoe'er  it  wound,  that  vein 

You  authorized  should  leave  your  whiteness,  stain 

Earth's  sombre  stretch  beyond  your  midmost  place 

Of  vantage,  —  trode  that  tinct  whereof  the  trace 

On  garb  and  flesh  repel  you !     Yes,  I  plead 


NUMPHOLEPTOS.  551 

Your  own  pennission  —  your  command,  indeed, 

That  who  would  worthily  retain  the  lo\e 

Must  share  the  knowledge  shrined  those  eyes  above. 

Go  boldly  on  adventure,  break  through  bounds 

O'  the  quintessential  whiteness  that  surrounds 

Your  feet,  obtain  experience  of  each  tinge 

That  bickers  forth  to  broaden  out,  impinge 

Plainer  his  foot  its  pathway  all*  distinct 

From  every  other.     Ah,  the  wonder,  linked 

With  fear,  as  exploration  manifests 

VVliat  agency  it  was  first  tipped  the  crests 

Of  unnamed  wildflower,  soon  protruding  grew 

Portentous  mid  the  sands,  as  when  his  hue 

Betrays     him     and     the      burrowing     snake     gleams 

through ; 
Till,  last  .  .  but  why  parade  more  shame  and  pain  ? 
Are  not  the  proofs  upon  me  ?     Here  again 
I  pass  into  your  presence,  I  receive 
Your  smile  of  pit)',  pardon,  and  I  leave  .  .  . 
No,  not  this  last  of  times  I  leave  you,  mute, 
Submitted  to  my  penance,  so  my  foot 


552  NUMPHOLEPTOS. 

May  yet  again  adventure,  tread,  from  source 
To  issue,  one  more  ray  of  rays  which  course 
Each  other,  at  your  bidding,  from  the  sphere 
Silver  and  sweet,  their  birthplace,  down  that  drear 
Dark  of  the  world,  —  you  promise  shall  return 
Your  pilgrim  jewelled  as  with  drops  o'  the  urn 
The  rainbow  paints  from,  and  no  smatch  at  all 
Of  ghastliness  at  edge  of  some  cloud-pall 
Heaven  cowers  before,  as  earth  awaits  the  fall 
O'    the   bolt    and   flash   of    doom.     \yho    trusts    youi 

word 
Tries  the  adventure:    and  returns  —  absurd 
As  frightful  —  in  that  sulphur-steeped  disguise 
Mocking  the  priestly  cloth-of-gold,  sole  prize 
The  arch-heretic  was  wont  to  bear  away 
Until  he  reached  the  burning.     No,  I  say: 
No  fresh  adventure  !     No  more  seeking  love 
At  end  of  toil,  and  finding,  calm  above 
My  passion,  the  old  statuesque  regard, 
The  sad  petrific  smile  1 


NUMPHOLEPTOS.  "^^^ 

O  you  —  less  hard 
And  hateful  than  mistaken  and  obtuse 
Unreason  of  a  she-intelligence  ! 
You  very  woman  with  the  pert  pretence 
To  match  the  male  achievement !     Like  enough  1 
Ay,  you  were  easy  victors,  did  the  rough 
Straightway  efface  itself  to  smooth,  the  gruff 
Grind  down  and  grow  a  whisper,  —  did  man's  truth 
Subdue,  for  sake  of  chivalry  and  ruth, 
Its  rapier-edge  to  suit  the  bulrush-spear 
Womanly  falsehood  fights  with  !     O  that  ear 
All  fact  pricks  rudely,  that  thrice-superfine 
Feminity  of  sense,  with  right  divine 
To  waive  all  process,  take  result  stain-free 
From  out  the  very  muck  wherein  .  .  . 

Ah  me  ! 
The  true  slave's*  querulous  outbreak !     All  the  rest 
Be  resignation  !     Forth  at  your  behest 
I  fare.     Who  knows  but  this  —  the  crimson-quest  — 
May  deepen  to  a  sunrise,  not  decay 
To  that  cold  sad  sweet  smile  ?  —  which  I  obey. 


554  APPEARANCES. 


APPEARANCES. 

I. 

And  so  you  found  that  poor  room  dull, 
Dark,  hardly  to  your  taste,  my  dear  ? 

Its  features  seemed  unbeautiful : 

But  this  I  know  —  'twas  there,  not  here, 

You  plighted  troth  to  me,  the  word 

Which  —  ask  that  poor  room  how  it  heard. 


And  this  rich  room  obtains  your  praise 
Unqualified  —  so  bright,  so  fair, 

So  all  whereat  perfection  stays  ?  . 
Ay,  but  remember  —  here,  not  there, 

The  other  word  was  spoken  !  —  Ask 

This  rich  room  how  you  dropped  the  mask  I 


iSr.   MARTIN'S  SUMMER.  555 


ST.   MARTIN'S   SUMMER. 

I. 

No  protesting,  dearer-t ! 
Hardly  kisses  even  ! 

Don't  we  both  know  how  it  ends. 
How  the  greenest  leaf   turns  searest, 
Bluest  outbreak  —  blankest  heaven, 
*lx)vers  —  friends  ? 


You  would  build  a  mansion, 
I  would  weave  a  bower 
—  Want  the  heart  for  enterprise. 
Walls  admit  of  no  expansion  : 
Trellis-work  may  haply  flower 
Twice  the  size. 


ST.   MARTIN'S  SUMMER. 

3- 

What  makes  glad  Life's  Winter? 
New  buds,  old  blooms  after. 
Sad  the  sighing  "  How  suspect 
Beams  would  ere  mid-Autumn  splinter, 
Rooftree  scarce  support  a  rafter, 
Walls  lie  wrecked  ?  " 

4- 
You  are  young,  my  princess  ! 
I  am  hardly  older : 

Yet  —  I  steal  a  glance  behind  1 
Dare  I  tell  you  what  convinces 
Timid  me  that  you,  if  bolder. 
Bold  —  are  blind  ? 

S- 
Where  we  plan  our  dwelling 
Glooms  a  graveyard  surely ! 

Headstone,  footstone  moss  may  drape, 


ST.   AfAR  TIN'S  SUMMER.  557 

Name,  date,  violets  hide  from  spelling, — 
But,  though  corpses  rot  obscurely, 
Ghosts  escape. 


Ghosts !     O  breathing  beauty, 
Give  my  frank  word  paf  ion  ! 
What  if  I  —  somehow,  somewhere  — 
Pledged  my  soul  to  endless  duty 
Many  a  time  and  oft?     Be  hard  on 
Love  —  laid  there  ? 


7- 

Nay,  blame  grief  that's  fickle. 
Time  that  proves  a  traitor. 

Chance,  change,  all  that  purpose  warps, — 
Death  who  spares  to  thrust  the  sickle 

Laid  Love  low,  through  flowers  which  larer 
Shroud  the  corpse! 


558  ST.  MARTIN'S  SUMMER. 

8. 

And  you,  my  winsome  lady, 
Whisper  me  with  like  frankness ! 
Lies  nothing  buried  long  ago? 
Are  yon — which  shimmer  mid  the  shady 
Where  moss  and  violet  run  to  rankness  - 
Tombs  or  no? 

9- 

Who  taxes  you  with  murder? 

My  hands  are  clean  —  or  nearly! 
Love  being  mortal  needs  must  pass. 
Repentance?     Nothing  were  absurder. 
Enough :   we  felt  Love's  loss  severely ; 
Though  now  —  alas  !  • 

lO. 

Love's  corpse  lies  quiet  therefore, 
Only  Love's  ghost  plays  truant, 

And  warns  us  have  in  wliolesome  awe. 


ST.   MARTIN'S  SUMMER.  559 

Durable  mansionry;  that's  wherefore 
I  weave  but  trellis-work,  pursuant 
—  Life,  to  law. 


The  solid,  not  the  fragile, 

Tempts  rain  and  hail  and  thunder. 

If  bower  stand  firm  at  Autumn's  close, 
Beyond  my  hope,  —  why,  boughs  were  agile ; 
If  bower,  fall  flat,  we  scarce  need  wonder 
Wreathing  —  rose ! 


12. 

So,  truce  to  the  protesting. 
So,  muffled  be  the  kisses ! 

For,  would  we  but  avow  the  truth, 
Sober  is  genuine  joy.     No  jesting  I 
Ask  else  Penelope,  Ulysses  — 
Old  in  youth  1 


56o  ST.  MA  J?  TIN'S  SUMMER. 

13- 
For  why  should  ghosts  feel  angered  ? 
Let  all  their  interference 

Be  faint  march-music  in  the  air ! 
"  Up  !     Join  the  rear  of  us  the  vanguard  I 
Up,  lovers,  dead  to  all  appearance. 
Laggard  pair ! " 

14. 

The  while  you  clasp  me  closer, 
The  while  I  press  you  deeper. 

As  safe  we  chuckle,  —  under  breath,  * 
Yet  all  the  slyer,  the  jocoser,  — 

"So,  life  can  boast  its  day,  like  leap-year. 
Stolen  from  death  !  " 

IS- 
Ah  me  —  the  sudden  terror  1 

Hence  quick  —  avaunt,  avoid  me, 

You  cheat,  the  ghostly  flesh-disguised  I 


Sr.   MARTIN'S  SUMMER.  561 

Nay,  all  the  ghosts  in  one  !     Strange  error  ! 

So,  'twas  Death's  self  that  clipped  and  coyed  me ! 
Loved  —  and  lied  I 


16. 

Ay,  dead  loves  are  the  potent ! 
Like  any  cloud  they  used  Jdu, 

Mere  semblance  you,  but  substance  tbeyl 
Build  we  no  mansion,  weave  we  no  tent ! 
Mere  flesh  —  their  spirit  interfused  you  1 
Hence,  I  say! 

-  17. 

All  theirs,  none  yours  the  glamour! 
Theirs  each  low  word  that  won  me. 

Soft  look  that  foimd  me  Love's,  and  left 
What  else  but  you  —  the  tears  and  clamor 
That's  all  your  very  own  !     Undone  me  — 
Ghost-bereft  1 


^0a  A  FORGIVENESS. 


A  FORGIVENESS. 

I  AM  indeed  the  personage  you  know. 
As  for  my  wife,  —  what  happened  long  ago  — 
You  have  a  right  to  question  me,  as  I 
Am  bound  to  answer. 

"  Son,  a  fit  reply  ! " 
The    monk    half    spoke,    half    ground    through    his 

clenched  teeth, 
At  the  confession-grate  I  knelt  beneath. 

Thus  then  all  happened,  Father!     Power  and  place 
I  had  as  still  I  have.     I  ran  life's  race, 
With  the  whole  world  to  see,  as  only  strains 
His  strength  some  athlete  whose  prodigious  gains 
Of  good  appall  him  :  happy  to  excess,  — 
Work  freely  done  should  balance  happiness 


A  FORGIVENESS.  563 

Fully  enjoyed ;   and,  since  beneath  my  roof 

Housed   she   who   made    home    heaven,   in    heaven's 

behoof 
I  went  forth  every  day,  and  all  day  long 
Worked  for  the  world.    Look,  how  the  laborer's  song 
Cheers    him !     Thus    sang    my   soul,    at   each    sharp 

throe 
Of  laboring  flesh  and  blood  —  *'  She  loves  me  so  ! " 

One  day,  perhaps  such  song  so  knit  the  nerve 

That  work  grew  play  and  vanished.     "I  deserve 

Haply  my  heaven  an  hour  before  the  time !  " 

» 
I  laughed,  as  silverly  the  clockhouse-chime 

Surprised  me  passing  through  the  postern-gate 

•^Not  the  main  entry  where  the  menials  wait 

And  wonder  why  the  world's  affairs  allow 

The  master  sudden  leisure.     That  was  how 

I  took  the  private  garden-way  for  once. 

Forth  from  the  alcove,  I  saw  start,  ensconce 
Himself  behind  the  porphyry  vase,  a  man. 


5^4  A   FORGIVENESS. 

My  fancies  in  the  natural  order  ran  : 

"  A  spy,  —  perhaps  a  foe  in  ambuscade,  — 

A  thief,  —  more  like,  a  sweetheart  of  some  maid 

Who  pitched  on  the  alcove  for  tryst  perhaps  " 

"  Stand  there  1 "    I  bid. 

Whereat  my  man  but  wraps 
His  face  the  closelier  with  uplifted  arm 
Whereon  the  cloak  lies,  strikes  in  blind  alarm 
This  and  that  pedestal  as,  —  stretch  and  stoop,  — 
Now  in,  now  out  of  sight,  he  thrids  the  group 
Of  statues,  marble  god  and  goddess  ranged 
Each  side  the  pathway,  till  the  gate's  exchanged 
For  safety :   one  step  thence,  the  street,  you  know  I 

Thus  far  I  followed  my  gaze.     Then,  slow, 
Near  on  admiringly,  I  breathed  again, 
And  —  back  to  that  last  fancy  of  the  train  — 
"  A  danger  risked  for  hope  of  just  a  word 
With  —  which  of  all  my  nest  may  be  the  bird 
This  poacher  covets  for  her  plumage,  pray? 


A   FORGIVEA^ESS.  •  565 

Carmen?    Juana?     Carmen  seems  too  gay 
For  such  adventure,  while  Juana's  grave 
—  Would  scorn  the  folly.     I  applaud  the  knave ! 
He  had  the  eye,  coulJ  single  from  my  brood 
His  proper  fledgling  1 " 

As  I  turned,  there  stood 
In  face  of  me,  my  wife  stone-slill  stone-white. 
Whether  one  bound  had  brought  her,  —  at  first  sight 
Of  what  she  judged  the  encounter,  sure  to  be 
Next  moment,  of  the  venturous  man  and  me, — 
Brought  her  to  clutch  and  keep  me  from  my  prey ; 
Whether  impelled  because  her  death  no  day 
Could  come  so  absolutely  opportune 
As  now  at  joy's  height,  like  a  year  in  June 
Stayed  at  the  fall  of   its  first  ripened  rose  ; 
Or  whether  hungry  for  my  hate  —  who  knows  ?  — 
Eager  to  end  an  irksome  lie,  and  taste 
Our  tingling  true  relation,  hate  embraced 
By  hate  one  naked  moment :  —  anyhow 
There  stone-still  stone-white  stood  my  wife,  but  now 


5 66  .  A  FORGIVENESS. 

The  woman  who  made  heaven  within  my  house. 
Ay,  she  who  faced  me  was  my  very  spouse 
As  well  as  love  —  you  are  to  recollect ! 

"  Stay ! "  she  said.    "Keep  at  least  one  soul  unspecked 

With  crime,  that's  spotless  hitherto  —  your  own  ! 

Kill  me  who  court  the  blessing,  who  alone 

Was,  am  and  shall  be  guilty,  first  to  last ! 

The  man  lay  helpless  in  the  toils  I  cast 

About  him,  helpless  as  the  statue  there 

Against  that  strangling  bell-flower's  bondage :   tear 

Away  and  tread  to  dust  the  parasite. 

But  do  the  passive  marble  no  despite  ! 

I  love  him  as  I  hate  you.     Kill  me  !     Strike 

At  one  blow  both  infinitudes  alike 

Out  of  existence  —  hate  and  love  !     Whence  love  ? 

That's  safe  inside  my  heart,  nor  will  remove 

For  any  searching  of  your  steel,  I  think. 

Whence  hate  i     The  secret  lay  on  lip,  at  brink 

Of  speech,  in  one  fierce  tremble  to  escape, 

At  every  form  wherein  your  love  took  shape, 


A  FORGIVENESS.  567 

At  each  new  provocation  of  your  kiss. 
Kill  me ! " 

We  went  in. 

Next  day  after  this, 
I  felt  as  if  the  speech  might  come.     I  spoke  — 
Easily,  after  all.  « 

"The  lifted  cloak 
Was  screen  sufficient:    I  concern  myself 
Hardly  with  laying  hands  on  who  for  pelf  — 
Whate'er  the  ignoble  kind  —  may  prowl  and  brave 
Cuffing  and  kicking  proper  to  a  knave 
Detected  by  my  household's  vigilance. 
Enough  of  such !     As  for  my  love-romance  — 
I,  like  our  good  Hidalgo,  rub  my  eyes 
And  wake  and  wonder  how  the  film  could  rise 
Which  changed  for  me  a  barber's  basin  straight 
Into  —  Mambrino's  helm  ?     I  hesitate 
Nowise  to  say  —  God's  sacramental  cup  1 


5 68  A   FORGIVENESS. 

Why  should  I  blame  the  brass  whichj  burnished  up. 

Will  blaze,  to  all  but  me,  as  good  as  gold  ? 

To  me  —  a  warning  I  was  overbold 

In  judging  metals.     The  Hidalgo  waked 

Only  to  die,  if  I  remember,  —  staked 

His  life  upon  the  basin's  worth,  and  lost : 

While  I  confess  torpidity  at  most 

In  here  and  there  a  limb  ;   but,  lame  and  halt, 

Still  should  I  work  on,  still  repair  my  fault 

Ere  I  took  rest  in  death,  —  no  fear  at  all ! 

Now,  work  —  no  word  before  the  curtain  fall !  " 

The  "  curtain  ?  "     That  of  death  on  life,  I  meant : 

My  "  word  "  permissible  in  death's  event, 

Would  be — truth,  soul  to  soul;  for,  otherwise, 

Day  by  day,  three  years  long,  there  had  to  rise 

And,  night  by  night,  to  fall  upon  our  stage  — 

Ours,  doomed  to  public  play  by  heritage  — 

Another  curtain,  when  the  world,  perforce 

Our  critical  assembly,  in  due  course 

Came  and  went,  witnessing,  gave  praise  or  blame 

To  art-mimetic.     It  had  spoiled  the  game 


A  FORGIVENESS.  569 

If,  suffered  to  set  foot  behind  our  scene, 

The  world  had  witnessed  how  stage-king  and  queen. 

Gallant  and  lady,  but  a  minute  since 

Enarming  each  the  other,  would  evince 

No  sign  of  recognition  as  they  took 

His  way  and  her  way  to  whatever  nook 

Waited  them  in  the  darkness  either  side 

Of  that  bright  stage  where  lately  groom  and  bride 

Had  fired  the  audience  to  a  frenzy-fit 

Of  sympathetic  rapture — every  whit 

Earned  as  the  curtain  fell  on  her  and  me, 

—  Actors.     Three  whole  years,  nothing  was  to  see 

But  calm  and  concord :   where  a  speech  was  due 

There   came  the   speech ;   when   smiles  were  wanted 

too 
Smiles  were  as  ready.     In  a  place  like  mine, 
Where  foreign  and  domestic  cares  combine. 
There's  audience  every  day  and  all  day  long; 
But  finally  the  last  of  the  whole  throng 
Who  linger  lets  one  see  his  back.     For  her  — 
Why,  liberty  and  liking :   I  aver, 


^70  A  FORGIVENESS. 

Liking  and  liberty!     For  me  —  I  breathed, 
Let  my  face  rest  from  every  wrinkle  wreathed 
Smile-like  about  the  mouth,  unlearned  my  task 
Of  personation  till  next  day  bade  mask. 
And  quietly  betook  me  from  that  world 
To  the  real  world,  not  pageant:   there  unfurled 
In  work,  its  wings,  my  soul,  the  fretted  power. 
Three  years  I  worked,  each  minute  of  each  hour 
Not  claimed  by  acting:  —  work  I  may  dispense 
With  talk  about,  since  work  in  evidence, 
Perhaps  in  history ;   who  knows  or  cares  ? 

After  three  years,  this  way,  all  unawares, 

Our  acting  ended.     She  and  I,  at  close 

Of  a  loud  night-feast,  led,  between  two  rows 

Of  bending  male  and  female  loyalty. 

Our  lord  the  king  down  staircase,  while,  held  high 

At  arm's  length  did  the  twisted  tapers'  flare 

Herald  his  passage  from  our  palace  where 

Such  visiting  left  glory  evermore. 

Again  the  ascent  in  public,  till  at  door 


A   FORGIVENESS.  gyi 

As  we  two  stood  by  the  saloon  —  now  blank 
And  disencumbered  of  its  guests  —  there  sank 
A  whisper  in  my  ear,  so  low  and  yet 
So  unmistakable ! 

"I  half  forget 
The  chamber  you  repair  to,  and  I  want 
Occasion  for  one  short  word  —  it  you  grant 
That  grace — within  a  certain  room  j'ou  called 
Our  *  Study,^  for  you  wrote  there  while  I  scrawled 
Some  paper  full  of  faces  for  my  sport. 
That  room  I  can  remember.     Just  one  short 
Word  with  you  there,  for  the  remembrance'  sake  ! " 

"  Follow  me  thither  !  "    I   -eplied. 

We  break 
The  gloom  a  little,  as  with  guiding  lamp 
I  lead  the  way,  leave  warmth  and  cheer,  by  damp 
Blind  disused  serpentining  ways  afar 
From  where  the  habitable  cha  -nbers  are,  — 


572  A  FORGIVENESS. 

Ascend,  descend  stairs  tunnelled  through  the  stone, — 

Always  in  silence,  —  till  I  reach  the  lone 

Chamber  sepulchred  for  my  very  own 

Out  of  the  palace-quarry.     When  a  boy, 

Here  was  my  fortress,  stronghold  from  annoy, 

Proof-positive  of  ownership  ;   in  youth 

I  garnered  up  my  gleanings  here  —  uncouth 

But  precious  relics  of  vain  hopes,  vain  fears; 

Finally,  this  became  in  after  years 

My  closet  of  intrenchment  to  withstand 

Invasion  of  the  foe  on  every  hand  — 

The  multifarious  herd  in  bower  and  hall, 

State-room,  —  rooms  whatsoe'er  the  style,  which  call 

On  masters  to  be  mindful  that,  before 

Men,  they  must  look  like  men  and   something  more. 

Here,  —  when  our  lord  the  king's  bestowment  ceased 

To  deck  me  on  the  day  that,  golden-fleeced, 

I  touched  ambition's  height,  —  'twas  here,  released 

From  glory  (always  symbolled  by  a  chain  !) 

No  sooner  was  I  privileged  to  gain 

My  secret  domicile  than  glad  I  flung 


A  FORGIVENESS.  573 

That  last  toy  on  the  table  —  gazed  where  hung 

On  hook  my  father's  gift,  the  arquebuss  — 

And  asked  myself  "  Shall  I  envisage  thus 

The  new  prize  and  the  old  prize,  when  I  reach 

Another  year's  experience?  —  own  that  each 

Equalled  advantage — sportsman's — statesman's  tool? 

That  brought  me  down  an  eagle,  this  —  a  fool !  " 

« 

Into  which  room  on  entry,  I  set  down 

The  lamp,  and  turning  saw  whose  rustled  gown 

Had  told  me  my  wife  followed,  pace  for  pace. 

t 

Each  of  us  looked  the  other  in  the  face, 
She  spoke.     "  Since  I  could  die  now  .  .  ." 

(To  explain 
Why  that  first  struck  me,  know  —  not  once  again 
Since  the  adventure  at  the  porphyry's  edge 
Three  years  before,  which  sundered  like  a  wedge 
Her  soul  from  mine,  —  though  daily,  smile  to  smile, 
We  stood  before  the  public,  —  all  the  while 
Not  once  had  I  distinguished,  in  that  lace 


i;74  ^  FORGIVENESS. 

I  paid  observance  to,  the  faintest  trace 

Of  feature  more  than  requisite  for  eyes 

To  do  tlieir  duty  by  and  recognize : 

So  did  I  force  mine  to  obey  my  will 

And  pry  no  further.     There  exists  such  skill,  — 

Those  know  who  need  it.     What  physician  shrinks 

From  needful  contact  with  a  corpse?     He  drinks 

No  plague  so  long  as  thirst  for  knowledge,  —  not 

An  idler  impulse,  —  prompts  inquiry.     What, 

And  will  you  disbelieve  in  power  to  bid 

Our  spirit  back  to  bounds,  as  though  we  chid 

A  child  from  scrutiny  that's  just  and  right 

In  manhood?     Sense,  not  soul,  accomplished  sight, 

Reported  daily  she  it  was  —  not  how 

Nor  why  a  change  had  come  to  cheek  and  brow.) 

"  Since  I  could  die  now  of  the  truth  concealed, 
Yet  dare  not,  must  not  die,  —  so  seems  revealed 
The  Virgin's  mind  to  me, — for  death  means  peace. 
Wherein  no  lawful  part  have  I,  whose  lease 
Of  life  and  punishment  the  truth  avowed 


A  FORGIVENESS.  575 

May  haply  lengthen,  —  let  me  push  the  shroud 

Away,  that  steals  to  muffle  ere  is  just 

My  penance-fire  in  snow  !     I  dare  —  I  must 

Live,  by  avowal  of  the  truth  —  this  truth  — 

I  loved  you!     Thanks  for  the  fresh  serpent's  tooth 

That,  by  a  prompt  new  pang  more  exquisite 

TTian  all  preceding  torture,  proves  me  right ! 

« 
I  loved  you  yet  I  lost  you !     May  I  go 

Bum  to  the  ashes,  now  my  shame  you  know?** 

I  think  there  never  was  such  —  how  express?  — 

Horror  coquetting  with  voluptuousness, 

As  in  those  arms  of  Eastern  workmanship  — 

Yataghan,  kandjar,  things  that  rend  and  rip. 

Gash  rough,  slash  smooth,  help  hate  so  many  ways, 

Yet  ever  keep  a  beauty  that  betrays 

Love  still  at  work  with  the  artificer 

Throughout  his  quaint  de\nsing.     Why  prefer, 

Except  for  love's  sake,  that  a  blade  should  writhe 

And  bicker  like  a  flame  ?  —  now  play  the  scythe 

As  if  some  broad  neck  tempted,  —  now  contract 


§76 


A  FORGIVENESS. 


And  needle  off  into  a  fineness  lacked 

For  just  that  puncture  which  the  heart  demands? 

Then,  such  adornment !     Wherefore  need  our  hands 

Enclose  not  ivory  alone,  nor  gold 

Roughened  for  use,  but  jewels  ?     Nay,  behold  ! 

Fancy  my  favorite  —  which  I  seem  to  grasp 

While  I  describe  the  luxury.     No  asp 

Is  diapered  more  delicate  round  throat 

Than  this  below  the  handle  !     These  denote 

—  These  mazy  lines  meandering,  to  end 

Only  in  flesh  they  open  —  what  intend 

They  else  but  water-purlings  —  pale  contrast 

With  the  life-crimson  where  they  blend  at  last? 

And  mark  the  handle's  dim  pellucid  green. 

Carved,  the  hard  jadestone,  as  you  pinch  a  bean, 

Into  a  sort  of  parrot-bird !     He  pecks 

A  grape-bunch ;  his  two  eyes  are  ruby-specks 

Pure  from  the  mine :   seen  this  way,  —  glassy  blank. 

But  turn  them,  —  lo  the  inmost  fire,  that  shrank 

From  sparkling,  sends  a  red  dart  right  to  am! 

Why  did  I  choose  such  toys  ?     Perhaps  the  game 


A  FORGIVENESS.  ^I^r. 

Of  peaceful  men  is  warlike,  just  as  men 
War-v/earied  get  amusement  from  tliat  pen 
And  paper  we  grow  sick  of  —  statesfolk  tired 
Of  merely  (when  such  measures  are  required) 
Dealing  out  doom  to  people  by  three  words, 
A  signature  and  seal :  we  play  with  swords 
Suggestive  of  quick  process.     That  is  how 
I  came  to  like  the  toys  described  you  now, 
Store  of  which  glittered  on  the  walls  and  strewed 
The  table,  even,  while  my  wife  pursued 
Her  purpose  to  its  ending.     "  Now  you  know 
This  shame,  my  three  years'  torture,  let  me  go, 
Burn  to  the  very  ashes  !     You  —  I  lost, 
Yet  you  —  I  loved  !  " 

The  thing  I  pity  most 
In  men  is  —  action  prompted  by  surprise 
Of  anger:   men?  nay,  bulls — whose  onset  lies 
At  instance  of  the  firework  and  the  goad ! 
Once  the  foe  prostrate,  —  trampling  once  bestowed,— 
Prompt  follows  placability,  regret, 


578  A  FORGIVENESS. 

Atonement.     Trust  me,  blood-warmth  never  yet 

Betokened  strong  will !     As  no  leap  of  pulse 

Pricked  me,  that  first  time,  so  did  none  convulse 

My  veins  at  this  occasion  for  resolve. 

Had  that  devolved  which  did  not  then  devolve 

Upon  me,  I  had  done  —  what  now  to  do 

Was  quietly  apparent. 

"Tell  me  who 
The  man  was,  crouching  by  the  porphyry  vase  I" 
"No,  never  1     All  was  folly  in  his  case, 
All  guilt  in  mine.     I  tempted,  he  complied." 

"And  yet  you  loved  me?" 

"Loved  you.     Double-dyed 
In  folly  and  in  guilt,  I  thought  you  gave 
Your  heart  and  soul  away  from  me  to  slave 
At  statecraft.     Since  my  right  in  you  seemed  lost, 
I  stung  myself  to  teach  you,  to  your  cost, 
What  you  rejected  could  be  prized  beyond 


A  FORGIVENESS.  579 

LifC;  heaven,  by  the  first  fool  I  threw  a  fond 
Look  on,  a  fatal  word  to." 

"And  you  stilk 
Love  me  ?     Do  I  conjecture  well  or  ill  ? " 
"  Conjecture  —  well  or  ill !     I  had  three  years 
To  spend  in  learning  you." 

"We  both  are  peers 
In  knowledge,  therefore :   since  three  years  are  spent 
Ere  thus  much  of   yourself   /  learn  —  who  went 
Back  to  the  house,  that  day,  and  brought  my  mind 
To  bear  upon  your  action,  uncombined 
Motive  from  motive,  till  the  dross,  deprived 
Of   every  purer  particle,  survived 
At  last  in  native  simple  hideousness, 
Utter  contemi^tibility,  nor  less 
Nor  more.     Contemptibility — exempt 
How  could  I,  from  its  proper  due  —  contempt? 
I  have  too  much  despised  you  to  divert 
My  life  from  its  set  course  by  help  or  hurt 


•580  A   FORGIVENESS. 

Of  your  all-despicable  life  —  perturb 

The  calm  I  work  in,  by  —  men's  mouth  to  curb, 

Wliich  at  such  news  were  clamorous  enough  — 

Men's  eyes  to  shut  before  my  broidered  stuff 

With  the  huge  hole  there,  my  emblazoned  wall 

Blank  where  a  scutcheon  hung,  —  by,  worse  than  all, 

Each  day's  procession,  my  paraded  life 

Robbed  and  impoverished  through  the  wanting  wife 

■^-  Now  that  my  life  (which  means  —  my  work)  was 

grown 
Riches  indeed !     Once,  just  this  worth  alone 
Seemed  work  to  have,  that  profit  gained  thereby 
Of  good  and  praise  would  —  how  reward i ngly  !  — 
Fall  at  your  feet,  —  a  crown  I  hoped  to  cast 
Before  your  love,  my  love  should  crown  at  last. 
No  love  remaining  to  cast  crown  before. 
My  love  stopped  work  now  :    but  contempt  the  more 
Impelled  me  task  as  ever  head  and  hand. 
Because  the  very  fiends  weave  ropes  of  sand 
Rather  than  taste  pure  hell  in  idleness. 
Therefore  I  kept  my  memory  down  by  stress 


A  FORGIVENESS.  S^l 

Of  daily  work  I  had  no  mind  to  stay 

For  the  world's  wonder  at  the  wife  away. 

Oh,  it  was  easy  all  of  it,  believe, 

For  I  despised  you  !     But  your  words  retrieve 

Importantly  the  past.     No  hate  assumed 

The  mask  of  love  at  any  time  !     There  gloomed 

A  moment  when  love  took  hate's  semblance,  urged 

By  causes  you  declare  ;   but  love's  self  purged 

Away  a  fancied  wrong  I  did  both  loves 

—  Yours  and  my  own  :   by  no  hate's  help,  it  proves, 

Purgation  was  attempted.     Then,  you  rise 

High  by  how  many  a  g'-ade  !     I  did  despise  — 

I  do  but  hate  you.     Let  hate's  punishment 

Replace  contempt's  !     First  step  to  which  ascent  — 

Write  down  your  own  words  I  re-utter  you ! 

*/  loved  my  husband  and  I  hated — who 

He  was,  I  took  tip  as  my  first  chatice,  mere 

Mud-ball  to  fling  and  make  love  foul  with  P     Here 

Lies  paper ! " 

"Would  my  blood  for  ink  suffice!" 


S82  A  FORGIVENESS. 

*'  It  may :   this  minion  from  a  land  of  spice, 
Silk,  feather  —  every  bird  of   je^Yelled  breast- 
This  poniard's  beauty,  ne'er  so  lightly  prest 
Above  your  heart  there  .  ." 

"Thus?" 


"  It  flows,  I  see 


Dip  there  the  point  and  write  ! " 


"  Dictate  to  me  1 
Nay,  I  remember." 

And  she  wrote  the  words. 
I  read  them.     Then  —  "Since  love,  in  you,  affords 
License  for  hate,  in  me,  to  quench  (I  say) 
Contempt  —  why,  hate  itself  has  passed  away 
In  vengeance  —  foreign  to  contempt.     Depart 
Peacefully  to  that  death  which  Eastern  art 
Imbued  this  weapon  with,  if   tales  be  true  J 
Love  will  succeed  to  hate.     I  pardon  you  — 
Dead  in  our  chamber  I  " 


A  FORGIVENESS.  583 

Trae  as  truth  the  tale. 
She  died  ere  morning  j  then,  I  saw  how  pale 
Her  cheek  was  ere  it  wore  day's  paint-disguise, 
And  what  a  hollow  darkened  'neath  her  eyes. 
Now  that  I  used  my  own.     She  sleeps,  as  erst 
Beloved,  in  this  your  church :   ay,  yours  ! 

Immersed 
In  thought  so  deeply,  Father?     Sad,  perhaps? 
For  whose  sake,  hers  or  mine  or  his  who  wraps 
—  Still  plain  I  seem  to  see !  —  about  his  head 
The  idle  cloak,  —  about  his  heart  (instead 
Of  cuirass)  some  fond  hope  he  may  elude 
My  vengeance  in  the  cloister's  solitude  ? 
Hardly,  I  think !     As  little  helped  his  brow 
The  cloak  then,  Father  —  as  your  grate  helps  now  1 


584  CENCIAJA. 


CENCIAJA. 

Ogni  cencio  vuol  entrare  in  bucato.  —  Italian  Proverb. 

May  I  print,  Shelley,  how  it  came  to  pass 

That  when  your  Beatrice  seemed  —  by  lapse 

Of  many  a  long  month  since  her  sentence  fell  — 

Assured  of  pardon  for  the  parricide,  — 

By  intercession  of  stanch  friends,  or,  say, 

By  certain  pricks  of  conscience  in  tlie  Pope 

Conniver  at  Francesco  Cenci's  guilt,  — 

Suddenly  all  things  changed  and  Clement  grew 

"Stern,"  as  you  state, ^" nor  to  be  moved  nor  bent 

But  said  these  three  words  coldly  '  She  must  die;  * 

Subjoining  '  Pardon  ?    Paolo  Santa  Croce 

Murdered  his  mother  also  yestcreve, 

And  he  is  fled:  she  shall  not  flee  at  least!* 

' — So,  to  the  letter,  sentence  was  fulfilled? 


CBNCIAJA.  585 

Shelley,  may  I  condense  verbosity 

That  lies  before  me,  into  some  few  words 

Of  English,  and  illustrate  your  superb 

Achievement  by  a  rescued  anecdote, 

No  great  things,  only  new  and  true  beside? 

As  if  some  mere  familiar  of  a  house 

Should  venture  to  accost  the  group  at  gaze 

Before  its  Titian,  famed  the  wide  world  through, 

And  supplement  such  pictured  masterpiece 

By  whisper  "  Searching  in  the  archives  here, 

I  found  the  reason  of  the  Lady's  fate, 

And  how  by  accident  it  came  to  pass 

She  wears  the  halo  and  displays  the  palm: 

Who,  haply,  else  had  never  suffered  —  no. 

Nor  graced  our  gallery,  by  consequence." 

Who  loved  the  work  would  like  the  little  news 

Who  lauds  your  poem  lends  an  ear  to  me 

Relating  how  the  penalty  was  paid 

By  one  Marchese  dell'  Oriolo,  called 

Onofrio  Santa  Croce  otherwise. 

For  his  complicity  in  matricide 


586  CENCIAJA. 

With  Paolo  his  own  brother,  —  he  whose  crime 
And  flight  induced   "  those  three  words  —  Slie   must 

die." 
Thus  I  unroll  you  then  the  manuscript. 

"  God's  justice  "  —  (of  the  multijDlicity 
Of  such  communications  extant  still, 
Recording,  each,  injustice  done  by  God 
In  person  of  his  Vicar-upon-earth, 
Scarce  one  but  leads  off  to  the  self-same  tune)  — 
"  God's  justice,  tardy  though  it  prove  perchance, 
Rests  never  on  the  track  until  it  reach 
Delinquency.     In  proof  I  cite  the  case 
Of  Paolo  Santa  Croce." 

Many  times 
The  youngster,  —  having  been  importunate 
That  Marchesine  Costanza,  who  remained 
His  widowed  mother,  should  supplant  the  heir 
Her  elder  son,  and  substitute  himself 
In  sole  possession  of  her  faculty, — 


CE  NCI  A  J  A.  587 

And  meeting  just  as  often  with  rebuff, — 
Blinded  by  so  exorbitant  a  lust 
Of  gold,  the  youngster  straightway  tasked  his  wits, 
Casting  about  to  kill  the  lady  —  thus. 

He  first,  to  cover  his  iniquity, 
Writes  to  Onofrio  Santa  Croce,  then 
Authoritative  lord,  acquainting  him 
Their  mother  was  contamination — wrought 
Like  hell-fire  in  the  beauty  of  their  House 
By  dissoluteness  and  abandonment 
Of  soul  and  body  to  impure  delight 
Moreover,  since  she  suffered  from  disease, 
Those  symptoms  which  her  death  made  manifest 
Hydroptic,  he  affirmed  were  fruits  of  sin 
About  to  bring  confusion  and  disgrace 
Upon  the  ancient  lineage  and  high  fame 
O'  the  famil}',  when  published.     Duty  bound, 
He  asked  his  brother  —  what  a  son  should  do  ? 

Which  when  Marchese  dell'  Oriolo  heard 


588  CENCIAJA. 

By  letter,  being  absent  at  his  land 

Oriolo,  he  made  answer,  this,  no  more 

"It  must  behoove  a  son,  —  things  haply  so, — 

To  act  as  honor  prompts  a  cavalier 

And  son,  perform  his  duty  to  all  three, 

Mother  and  brothers"  —  here  advice  broke  off. 

By  Vi^hich  advice  informed  and  fortified 
As  he  professed  himself  —  the  bound  by  birth 
To  hear  God's  voice  in  primogeniture  — 
Paolo,  who  kept  his  mother  company 
In  her  domain  Subiaco,  straightway  dared 
His  whole  enormity  of  enterprise 
And,  falling  on  her,  stabbed  the  lady  dead  ; 
Whose  death  demonstrated  her  innocence, 
And  happened,  —  by  the  way,  —  since  Jesus  Christ 
Died  to  save  man,  just  sixteen  hundred  years. 
Costanza  was  of  aspect  beautiful 
Exceedingly,  and  seemed,  although  in  age 
Sixty  about,  to  far  surpass  her  peers 
The  coetaneous  dames,  in  youth  and  grace. 


CENCIAJA.  589 

Done  the  misdeed,  its  author  takes  to  flight, 
Foiling  thereby  the  justice  of  the  world : 
Not  God's  however,  —  God,  be  sure,  knows  well 
The  way  to  clutch  a  culprit.     Witness  here ! 
The  present  sinner,  when  he  least  expects, 
Snug-cornered  somewhere  i'  the  Basilicate, 
Stumbles  upon  his  death  by  violence. 
A  man  of  blood  assaults  the  man  of  blood 
And  slays  him  somehow.     This  was  afterward : 
Enough,  he  promptly  met  with  his  deserts, 
And,  ending  thus,  permits  we  end  with  him, 
And  push  forthwith  to  this  important  point  — 
His  matricide  fell  out,  of  all  the  days, 
Precisely  when  the  law-procedure  closed 
Respecting  Count  Francesco  Cenci's  death 
Chargeable  on  his  daughter,  sons  and  wife. 
''Thus  patricide  was  matched  with  matricide," 
A  poet  not  inelegantly  rh}Tned  : 
Nay,  fratricide  —  those  Princes  Massimi !  — 
WTiich  so  disturbed  the  spirit  of  the  Pope 
That  all  the  likelihood  Rome  entertained 


59°  CENCIAJA. 

Of  Beatrice's  pardon  vanished  straight, 
And  she  endured  the  piteous  death. 

Now  see 
The  sequel  —  what  effect  commandment  had 
For  strict  inquiry  into  this  last  case, 
When  Cardinal  Aldobrandini  (great 
His  efficacy  —  nephew  to  the  Pope!) 
Was  bidden  crush  —  ay,  though  his  very  hand 
Got  soil  i'  the  act  —  crime  spawning  everywhere ! 
Because,  when  all  endeavor  had  been  used 
To  catch  the  aforesaid  Paolo,  all  in  vain  — 
"Make  perquisition"  quoth  our  Eminence, 
"  Throughout  his  now  deserted  domicile ! 
Ransack  the  palace,  roof  and  floor,  to  find 
If  haply  any  scrap  of  writing,  hid 
In  nook  or  corner,  may  convict — who  knov/s?  — 
Brother  Onofrio  of  intelligence 
With  brother  Paolo,  as  in  brotherhood 
Is  but  too  likely :   crime  spawns  everj'where  I " 


CENCIAJA.  59  r 

And,  every  cranny  searched  accordingly, 
There  comes  to  light  —  O  lynx-eyed  Cardinal!  — 
Onofrio's  unconsidered  writing-scrap, 
The  letter  in  reply  to  Paolo's  prayer, 
The  word  of  counsel  that — things  proving  so, 
Paolo  should  act  the  proper  knightly  part. 
And  do  as  was  incumbent  on  a  son, 
A  brother  —  and  a  man  of  birth,  be  sure ! 

Whereat  immediately  the  officers 
Proceeded  to  arrest  Onofrio  —  found 
At  foot-ball,  child's  play,  unaware  of  harm. 
Safe  with  his  friends,  the  Orsini,  at  their  seat 
Monte  Giordano  ;   as  he  left  the  house 
He  came  upon  the  v.atch  in  wait  for  him 
Set  by  the  Barigel,  —  was  caught  and  caged. 

News  of  which  capture  being,  that  same  hour, 
Conveyed  to  Rome,  forthwith  our  Eminence 
Commands  Taverna,  Governor  and  Judge, 
To  have  the  process  in  especial  care. 


S9*  CENCIAJA. 

Be,  first  to  last,  not  only  president 

In  person,  but  inquisitor  as  well, 

Nor  trust  ihe  by-work  to  a  substitute: 

Bids  him  not,  squeamish,  keep  the  bench,  but  scrub 

The  floor  of  Justice,  so  to  speak,  —  go^  try 

His  best  in  prison  with  the  criminal ; 

Promising,  as  reward  for  by-work  done 

Fairly  on  all-fours,  that,  success  obtained 

And  crime  avowed,  or  such  connivancy 

With  crime  as  should  procure  a  decent  death  — 

Himself  will  humbly  beg  —  which  means,  procure  — 

The  Hat  and  Purple  from  his  relative 

The  Pope,  and  so  repay  a  diligence 

Which,  meritorious  in  the  Cenci-case, 

Mounts  plainly  here  to  Purple  and  the  Hat  1 

Whereupon  did  my  lord  the  Governor 
So  masterfully  exercise  the  task 
Enjoined  him,  that  he,  day  by  day,  and  week 
By  week,  and  month  by  month,  from  first  to  last 
Deserved  the  prize :   now,  punctual  at  his  place, 


CENCIAJA.  593 

Played  Judge,  and  now,  assiduous  at  his  post, 
Inquisitor  —  pressed  cushion  and  scoured  plank, 
Early  and  late.     Noon's  fer\'or  and  night's  chill, 
Nought   moved   whom    morn    would,    purpling,    make 

amends  ! 
So  that  observers  laughed  as,  many  a  day, 
He  left  home,  in  July  when  day  is  flame, 
Posted  to  Tordinona-prison,  plunged 
Into  the  vault  where  daylong  night  is  ice. 
There  passed  his  eight  hours  on  a  stretch,  content, 
Examining  Onofrio  :   all  the  stress 
Of   all  examination  steadily 
Converging  into  one  pin-point,  —  he  pushed 
Tentative  now  of  head  and  now  of  heart. 
As  when  the  nuthatch  taps  and  tries  the  nut 
This  side  and  that  side  till  the  kernel  sound, — 
So  did  he  press  the  sole  and  single  point 
—  What  was  the  very  meaning  of  the  phrase 
*  Do  what  beseems  an  honored  cavalier  ? ' 

Which  one  persistent  question-torture, — plied 


594  CENCIAJA. 

Day  by  day,  week  by  week,  and  month  by  month, 
Morn,  noon  and  night, — fatigued  away  a  mind 
Grown  imbecile  by  darkness,  solitude, 
And  one  vivacious  memory  gnawing  there 
As  when  a  corpse  is  coffined  with  a  snake : 

—  Fatigued  Onofrio  into  what  might  seem 
Admission  that  perchance  his  judgment  groped 
So  blindly,  feeling  for  an  issue  —  aught 

"With  semblance  of   an  issue  from  the  toils 
Cast  of   a  sudden  round  feet  late  so  free, 
He  possibly  might  have  envisaged,  scarce 
Recoiled  from  —  even  were  the  issue  death 

—  Even  her  death  whose  life  was  death  and  worse  1 
Always  provided  that  the  charge  of  crime, 

Each  jot  and  tittle  of   the  charge  were  true. 
In  such  a  sense,  belike,  he  might  advise 
His  brother  to  expurgate  crime  with  .  .  well, 
With  blood,  if  blood  must  follow  on  ^  the  course 
Taken  as  might  beseem  a  cavalier.^ 

Whereupon  process  ended,  and  report 


CENCIAJA.  595 

Was  made  without  a  minute  of   delay 
To  Clement  who,  because  of   those  two  crimes 
O'  the  Massimi  and  Cenci  flagrant  late, 
Must  needs  impatiently  desire  result. 

Result  obtained,  he  bade  the  Governor 
Summon  the  Congregation  and  despatch. 
Summons  made,  sentence  passed  accordingly 
—  Death  by  beheading.     When  his  death-decree 
Was  intimated  to  Onofrio,  all 
Man  could  do  —  that  did  he  to  save  himself. 
'Twas  much,  the  having  gained  for  his  defence 
The  Advocate  o'  the  Poor,  with  natural  help 
Of  many  noble  friendly  persons  fain 
To  disengage  a  man  of  family. 
So  young  too,  from  his  grim  entanglement. 
But  Cardinal  Aldobrandini  ruled 
There  must  be  no  diversion  of  the  law. 
Justice  is  justice,  and  the  magistrate 
Bears  not  the  sword  in  vain.     Who  sins  must  die. 


596  CENCIAJA. 

So,  the  Marchese  had  his  head  cut  off 
In  Place  Saint  Angelo  beside  the  Bridge, 
With  Rome  to  see,  a  concourse  infinite  ; 
Where,  demonstrating  magnanimity 
Adequate  to  his  birth  and  breed,  —  poor  boy  !  — 
He  made  the  people  the  accustomed  speech, 
Exhorted  them  to  true  faith,  honest  works. 
And  special  good  behavior  as  regards 
A  parent  of  no  matter  what  the  sex, 
Bidding  each  son  take  warning  from  himself. 
Truly,  it  was  considered  in  the  boy 
Stark  staring  lunacy,  no  less,  to  snap 
So  plain  a  bait,  be  hooked  and  hauled  a-shore 
By  such  an  angler  as  the  Cardinal! 
Why  make  confession  of  his  privity 
To  Paolo's  enterprise  ?     Mere  sealing  lips  — 
Or,  better,  saying  "When  I  counselled  him 
''  To  do  as  might  beseem  a  cavalier,^ 
What  could  I  mean  but  *  Hide  our  parent's  shanu 
As  Christian  ought,  by  aid  of  Holy  Church  I 
Bury  it  in  a  convent  —  ay,  beneath 


CENCIAJA.  597 

Enough  dotation  to  prevent  its  ghost 

From   troubling  earth  I  ^  ^^      Mere    saying    thus,  —  'tis 

plain, 
Not  only  were  his  life  the  recompense. 
But  he  had  manifestly  proved  himself 
'I'rue  Christian,  and  in  lieu  of  punishment 
Been  praised  of  all  men  !  —  So  the  populace. 

Anyhow,  when  the  Pope  made  promise  good 
(That  of  Aldobrandini,  near  and  dear) 
And  gave  Taverna,  who  had  toiled  so  much, 
A  Cardinal's  equipment,  some  such  word 
As  this  from  mouth  to  ear  went  saucily: 
"  Taverna's  cap  is  dyed  in  what  he  drew 
From  Santa  Croce's  veins  1 "     So  joked  the  world. 

I  add :   Onofrio  left  one  child  behind, 
A  daughter  named  Valeria,  dowered  with  grace 
Abundantly  of  soul  and  body,  doomed 
To  life  the  shorter  for  her  father's  fate. 
^  death  of  her,  the  Marquisate  returned 


598  CE  NCI  Ay  A. 

To  that  Orsini  House  from  whence  it  came : 
Oriolo  having  passed  as  donative 
To  Santa  Croce  from  their  ancestors. 

And  no  word  more  ?     By  all  means  !     Would  you 
know 
The  authoritative  answer,  when  folks  urged 
"  What  made  Aldobrandini,  hound-like  stanch, 
Hunt  out  of  life  a  harmless  simpleton  ? " 
The  answer  was  —  "  Hatred  implacable, 
By  reason  they  were  rivals  in  their  love." 
The  Cardinal's  desire  was  to  a  dame 
Whose  favor  was  Onofrio's.     Pricked  with  pride. 
The  simpleton  must  ostentatiously 
Display  a  ring,  the  Cardinal's  love-gift, 
Given  to  Onofrio  as  the  lady's  gage  ; 
Which  ring  on  finger,  as  he  put  forth  hand 
To  draw  a  tapestry,  the  Cardinal 
Saw  and  knew,  gift  and  owner,  old  and  young ; 
Whereon  a  tury  entered  him  —  the  fire 
He   quenched   with  what   could   quench   fire   only— 
blood. 


CENCIAJA,  599 

Nay,  more :   "  there  want  not  who  affirm  to  boot^ 

The  unwise  boy,  a  certain  festal  eve, 

Feigned  ignorance  of  who  the  wight  might  be 

That  pressed  too  closely  on  him  with  a  crowd, 

And  struck  the  Cardinal  a  blow :   and  then. 

To  put  a  face  upon  the  incident, 

Dared  next  day,  smug  as  ever,  go  pay  court 

I'  the  Cardinal's  antechamber.     Mark  and  mend, 

Ye  youth,  by  this  example  how  may  greed 

Vainglorious  operate  in  worldly  souls  !  " 

So  ends  the  chronicler,  beginning  with 
"  God's  justice,  tardy  though  it  prove  perchance, 
Rests  never  till  it  reach  delinquency." 
Ay,  or  how  otherwise  had  come  to  pass 
That  Victor  rules  this  present  year,  in  Rome? 


(JOO  FILIPPO  BALDINUCCI 


FILIPPO    BALDINUCCI    ON   THE    PRIVI- 
LEGE    OF    BURIAL. 

A  Reminiscence  of  a.d.   1676. 


"  No,  boy,  we  must  not "  —  so  began 

My  Uncle  (he's  with  God  long  since) 
A-petting  me,  the  good  old  man  ! 

"  We  must  not "  —  and  he  seemed  to  wince, 
And  lost  that  laugh  whereto  had  grown 

His  chuckle  at  my  piece  of  news. 
How  cleverly  I  aimed  my  stone  — 

"  I  fear  we  must  not  pelt  the  Jews  1 

2. 

"When  I  was  young  indeed,  —  ah,  faith 
Was  young  and  strong  in  Florence  too  I 

We  Christians  never  dreamed  of  scathe 
Because  we  cursed  or  kicked  the  crew. 


ON  THE  PRIVILEGE  OF  BURIAL.  6oi 

But  now  —  well,  well !     The  olive-crops 
Weighed  double  then,  and  Amo's  pranks 

Would  always  spare  religious  shops 
Whenever  he  o'erflowed  his  banks  1 


3- 
"  I'll  tell  you  "  —  and  his  eye  regained 

Its  twinkle  —  "tell  you  something  choice  1 
Something  may  help  you  keep  unstained 

Your  honest  zeal  to  stop  the  voice 
Of  unbelief  with  stone-throw  —  spite 

Of  laws,  which  modem  fools  enact. 
That  we  must  suffer  Jews  in  sight 

Go  wholly  unmolested  1     Fact  I 


4- 

"There  was,  then,  in  my  youth,  and  yet 

Is,  by  San  Frediano,  just 
Below  the  Blessed  Olivet, 

A  wayside  ground  wherein  they  thrust 


6o2  FILIPPO  BALDINUCCI 

Their  dead,  —  these  Jews,  —  the  more  our  shame 

Except  that,  so  they  will  but  die, 
We  may  perchance  incur  no  blame 

In  giving  hogs  a  hoist  to  sty. 

5- 
"There,  anyhow,  Jews  stow  away 

Their  dead  ;   and,  —  such  their  insolence,  — 
Slink  at  odd  times  to  sing  and  pray 

As  Christians  do  —  all  make-pretence  !  — 
Which  wickedness  they  perpetrate 

Because  they  think  no  Christians  see. 
They  reckoned  here,  at  any  rate, 

Without  their  host :  ha,  ha,  he,  he ! 

6. 

"For,  what  should  join  their  plot  of  ground 
But  al  good  Farmer's  Christian  field? 

The  Jews  had  hedged  their  corner  round 
With  bramble-bush  to  keep  concealed 


ON  THE  PRIVILEGE  OF  BURIAL.  603 

Their  doings  :  for  the  public  road 

Ran  betwixt  this  their  ground  and  that 

The  Farmer's,  where  he  ploughed  and  sowed, 
Grew  corn  for  barn  and  grapes  for  vat. 

7. 

"  So,  properly  to  guard  his  store 

And  gall  the  unbelievers  too, 
He  builds  a  shrine  and,  what  is  more, 

Procures  a  painter  whom  I  knew. 
One  Buti  (he's  with  God)  to  paint 

A  holy  picture  there  —  no-  less 
Than  Virgin  Mary  free  from  taint 

Borne  to  the  sky  by  angels :   yes  I 

8. 

"Which  shrine  he  fixed,  —  who  says  him  nay?  — 

A-facing  with  its  picture-side 
Not,  as  you'd  think,  the  public  way. 

But  just  where  sought  these  hounds  to  hide 


6o4  FILIPPO  BALDINUCCI 

Their  carrion  from  that  very  truth 
Of  Mary's  triumph :   not  a  hound 

Could  act  his  mummeries  uncouth 

But  Mary  shamed  the  pack  all  round ! 

9- 

**  Now,  if  it  was  amusing,  judge  I 

—  To  see  the  company  arrive, 
Each  Jew  intent  to  end  his  trudge 

And  take  his  pleasure  (though  alive) 
With  all  his  Jewish  kith  and  kin 

Below  ground,  have  his  venom  out, 
Sharpen  his  wits  for  next  day's  sin, 

Curse  Christians,  and  so  home,  no  doubt ! 

lO. 

"Whereas,  each  phiz  upturned  beholds 
Mary,  I  warrant,  soaring  brave  ! 

And  in  a  trice,  beneath  the  folds 

Of  filthy  garb  which  gowns  each  knave, 


ON  THE  PRIVILEGE   OF  BURIAL.  60$ 

Down  drops  it  —  there  to  hide  grimace, 
Contortion  of  the  mouth  and  nose 

At  finding  Marj'  in  the  place 
They'd  keep  for  Pilate,  I  suppose  1 


"At  last,  they  will  not  brook  —  not  they  I  — 

Longer  such  outrage  on  their  tribe : 
So,  in  some  hole  and  comer,  lay 

Their  heads  together  —  how  to  bribe 
The  meritorious  Farmer's  self 

To  straight  undo  his  work,  restore 
Their  chance  to  meet,  and  muse  on  pelf  — 

Pretending  sorrow,  as  before ! 

12. 

"  Forthwith,  a  posse,  if  you  please, 
Of  Rabbi  This  and  Rabbi  That 

Almost  go  down  upon  their  knees 
To  get  him  lay  the  picture  flat 


6o6  FILIPPO  BALDINUCCI 

The  spokesman,  eighty  years  of  age, 
Gray  as  a  badger,  with  a  goat's 

—  Not  only  beard  but  bleat,  'gins  wage 
War  with  our  Mary.     Thus  he  dotes :  — 


13- 

**' Friends,  grant  a  grace/    How  Hebrews  toil 

Through  life  in  Florence  —  why  relate 
To  those  who  lay  the  burden,  spoil 

Our  paths  of  peace  7     We  bear  our  fate. 
But  when  with  life  the  long  toil  ends, 

Why  must  you  —  the  expression  craves 
Pardon,  but  truth  compels  me,  friends  /  — 

Why  must  you  plague  us  in  our  graves  f 

14. 

"  *  Thoughtlessly  plague,  I  would  believe/ 
For  how  can  you  —  the  lords  of  ease 

By  nurture,  birthright — e^en  co7tceive 
Our  luxury  to  lie  with  trees 


ON  THE  PRIVILEGE  OF  BURIAL.  60/ 

And  turf,  —  the  cricket  and  the  bird 

Left  for  our  last  companionship  : 
No  harsh  deed,  no  unkindly  word, 

No  frowning  brow  nor  scornful  lip  I 

IS- 
"*Death^s  luxury,  we  now  rehearse 

While,  living,  through  your  streets  we  fare 
And  take  yow^  hatred:  nothing  worse 

Have  we,  once  dead  and  safe,  to  bear  1 
So  we  refresh  our  souls,  fulfil 

Our  works,  our  daily  tasks ;  and  thus 
Gather  you  grain  —  earths  harvest — still 

The  wheat  for  you,  the  straw  for  us, 

16. 

""What  flouting  in  a  face,  what  harm, 

In  just  a  lady  borne  aloft 
By  boys'  heads,  wings  for  leg  and  arm  ? ' 

You  question.     Friends,  the  harm  is  here^ 


boS  FILIPPO  BALDINUCCI 

That  just  when  our  last  sigh  is  heaved. 
And  we  would  fain  thank  God  and  you 

For  labor  done  and  peace  achieved, 
Back  comes  the  Past  in  full  review  t 

17- 

*'  *  At  sight  of  just  that  simple  flag, 

Starts  the  foefeeling  serpent-like 
From  slumber.     Leave  it  lulled,  nor  drag^ 

Though  fangless  — forth,  what  needs  must  strike 
When  stricken  sore^  though  stroke  be  vain 

Against  the  mailed  oppressor  I     Give 
Play  to  our  fancy  that  we  gain 

Life's  rights  when  once  we  cease  to  live  I 

i8. 

"  *  Thus  much  to  courtesy,  to  kind^ 
To  conscience!    Now  to  Florence  folk! 
Therms  core  beneath  this  apple-rind. 
Beneath  this  white-of-egg  there's  yolk  I 


ON  THE  PRIVILEGE   OF  BURIAL.  609 

Beneath  this  prayer  to  courtesy. 

Kind,  conscience — there's  a  sum  to  pouch! 
How  many  ducats  down  will  buy 

Our  shames  re?noval,  sirs  f    Avouch  ! 

19. 

"*Iiemoval,  not  destruction,  sirs  I 

jFust  turn  your  picture  !•    Let  it  front 
The  public  path  /     Or  memory  errs, 

Or  that  same  public  path  is  wont 
To  witness  many  a  chance  befall 

Of  lust,  theft,  bloodshed — sins  enough. 
Wherein  our  Hebrew  part  is  small. 

Convert  yourselves  / '  —  he  cut  up  rough. 

20.  "^ 

"Look  you,  how  soon  a  service  paid 

Religion  yields  the  servant  fruit ! 
A  prompt  reply  our  Farmer  made 

So  following  :    '  Sirs,  to  grant  your  suit 


6io  FILIPPO  BALDINUCCI 

Involve:)  much  danger!    Howl     Transpose 
Our  Lady  1     Stop  the  chastisement, 

All  for  your  good,  herself  bestows  ? 
What  wonder  if  I  grudge  consent  ? 

91. 

"  *  —  Yet  grant  it:  since,  what  cash  I  take 

Is  so  muck  saved  from  wicked  use. 
We  know  you  !    And,  for  Mary's  sake, 

A  hundred  ducats  slifill  induce 
Concession  to  your  prayer.     One  day 

Suffices:  Master  ButPs  brush 
Turns  Mary  round  the  other  way. 

And  deluges  your  side  with  slush. 

""^  22. 

**'Down  with  the  ducats  therefore  P     Dump, 
Dump,  dump  it  falls,  each  counted  piece. 

Hard  gold.     Then  out  of  door  they  stump, 
These  dogs,  each  brisk  as  with  new  lease 


ON  THE  PRIVILEGE   OF  BURIAL.  Cti 

Of  life,  I  warrant,  —  glad  he'll  die 
Henceforward  just  as  he  may  choose, 

Be  buried  and  in  clover  lie ! 

Well  said  Esaias  — '  stiff-necked  yews  I  * 

23- 

"Off  posts  without  a  minute's  loss 

Our  Farmer,  once  the  cash  in  poke. 
And  summons  Buti  —  ere  its  gloss 

Have  time  to  fade  from  off  the  joke  — 
To  chop  and  change  his  work,  undo 

The  done  side,  make  the  side,^now  blank, 
Recipient  of  our  Lady  —  who. 

Displaced  thus,  had  these  dogs  to  thank ! 

24. 

"Now,  boy,  you're  hardly  to  instruct 

In  technicalities  of  Art ! 
My  nephew's  childhood  sure  has  sucked 

Along  with  mother's-milk  some  part 


6X2  FILIPPO  BALDINUCCI 

Of  painter's-practice  —  learned,  at  least, 

How  expeditiously  is  plied 
A  work  in  fresco  —  never  ceased 

When  once  begun  —  a  day,  each  side 

25- 
"So,  Buti— (he's  with  God)  — begins: 

First  covers  up  the  shrine  all  round 
With  hoarding;  then,  as  like  as  twins, 

Paints,  t'other  side  the  burial-ground, 
New  Mary,  every  point  the  same; 

Next,  sluices  over,  as  agreed. 
The  old;  and  last  —  but,  spoil  the  game 

By  telling  you  ?    Not  I,  indeed  ! 

26. 

"Well,  ere  the  week  was  half  at  end, 
Out  came  the  object  of  this  zeal, 

This  fine  alacrity  to  spend 

Hard  money  for  mere  dead  men's  weal! 


ON  THE  PRIVILEGE   OF  BURIAL.  613 

How  think  you?    That  old  spokesman  Jew 
Was  High  Priest,  and  he  had  a  wife 

As  old,  and  she  was  dying  too, 

And  wished  to  end  in  peace  her  life  I 

27. 

"  And  he  must  humor  dying  whims, 

And  soothe  her  with  the  idle  hope 
They'd  say  their  prayers  and  sing  their  hymns 

As  if  her  husband  were  the  Pope! 
And  she  did  die — believing  just 

This  privilege  was  purchased  !     Dead 
In  comfort  through  her  foolish  trust  1 

'  Stiff-necked  ones,'  well  Esaias  said ! 

28. 

"So,  Sabbath  morning,  out  of  gate 
And  on  to  way,  what  sees  our  arch 

Good  Farmer  ?    Why,  they  hoist  their  freight  — 
The  corpse  —  on  shoulder,  and  so,  march  1 


6i4  FILIPPO  BALDINUCCI 

*  Now  for  it,  Butt  r     In  the  nick 
Of   time  'tis  pully-hauly,  hence 

With  hoarding!     O'er  the  wayside -quick 
There's  Mary  plain  in  evidence ! 


29. 

"And  here's  the  convoy  halting:  right  I 

O  they  are  bent  on  howling  psalms 
And  growling  prayers,  when  opposite ! 

And  yet  they  glance,  for  all  their  qualms, 
Approve  that  promptitude  of  his, 

The  Farmer's  —  duly  at  his  post 
To  take  due  thanks  from  every  phiz, 

Sour  smirk  —  nay,  surly  smile  almost  I 

30- 

**  Then  earthward  drops  each  brow  again ; 

The  solemn  task's  resumed  ;   they  reach 
Their  holy  field  —  the  unholy  train  : 

Enter  its  precinct,  all  and  each, 


ON   THE  PRIVILEGE  OF  BURIAL.  615 

Wrapt  somehow  in  their  godless  rites ; 

Till,  rites  at  end,  up-waking,  lo 
They  lift  their  faces !    What  delights 

The  mourners  as  they  turn  to  go  ? 

31- 

"  Ha,  ha,  he,  he !     On  just  the  side 

They  drew  their  purse-strings  to  make  quit 
Of  Mary,  —  Christ  the  Crucified 

Fronted  them  now  —  these  biters  bit ! 
Never  was  such  a  hiss  and  snort, 

Such  screwing  nose  and  shooting  lip! 
Their  purchase  —  honey  in  report  — 

Proved  gall  and  verjuice  at  .first  sip  I 

32. 
"Out  they  break,  on  they  bustle,  where, 

A-top  of  wall,  the  Farmer  waits 
With  Buti :   never  fun  so  rare  1 

The  Farmer  has  the  best:  he  rates 


6l6  FILIPPO  BALDINUCCI 

The  rascal,  as  the  old  High  Priest 
Takes  on  himself  to  sermonize  — 

Nay,  sneer,  *  We  Jews  supposed^  at  hasty 
Theft  was  a  crime  in  Christian  eyes  P 

33- 

"  *  Theft  ?  *  cries  the  Farmer,  *  JSat  your  words  I 

Show  me  what  constitutes  a  breach 
Of  faith  in  aught  was  said  or  heard  I 

I  promised  you  in  plainest  speech 
Td  take  the  thing  you  count  disgrace 

And  put  it  here  —  and  here  'tis  put  I 
Did  you  suppose  Pd  leave  the  place 

Blank  therefore,  just  your  rage  to  glut  f 

34- 

"  *  /  guess  you  dared  not  stipulate 

For  such  a  damned  impertinence  I 
So,  quick,  my  graybeard,  out  of  gate 

And  in  at  Ghetto  I    Haste  you  hence  I 


ON   THE  PRIVILEGE  OF  BURIAL.  617 

As  long  as  I  have  house  and  land. 

To  spite  you  irreligious  chaps 
Here  shall  the  Crucifixion  stand — 

Unless  you  down  with  cash,  perhaps  P 

35- 
**So  snickered  he  and  Buti  both. 

The  Jews  said  nothing,  interchanged 
A  glance  or  two,  renewed  their  oath 

To  keep  ears  stopped  and  hearts  estranged 
From  grace,  for  all  our  Church  can  do  ; 

Then  off  they  scuttle:   sullen  jog 
Homewards,  against  our  Church  to  brew 

Fresh  mischief  in  their  sjoiagogue. 

"  But  next  day  —  see  what  happened,  boy ! 

See  why  I  bid  you  have  a  care 
How  you  pelt  Jews  !     The  knaves  employ 

Such  methods  of  revenge,  forbear 


5l8  FILIPPO  BALDINUCCl 

No  outrage  on  our  faith,  when  free 
To  wreak  their  malice  !     Here  they  took 

So  base  a  method  —  plague  o'  me 
If  I  record  it  in  my  Book  1 

"  For,  next  day,  while  the  Farmer  sat 

Laughing,  with  Buti  in  his  shop, 
At  their  successful  joke, — rat-tat, — 

Door  opens,  and  they're  like  to  drop 
Down  to  the  floor  as  in  there  stalks 

A  six-feet-high  herculean-built 
Young  he-Jew  with  a  beard  that  balks 

Description.     '  Help  ere  blood  be  spilt !  * 

38. 

—  "  Screamed  Buti :  for  he  recognized 
Whom  but  the  son,  no  less  no  more, 

Of  that  High  Priest  his  work  surprised 
So  pleasantly  the  day  before ! 


ON  THE  PRIVILEGE  OF  BURIAL.  619 

Son  of  the  mother,  then^  whereof 

The  bier  he  lent  a  shoulder  to, 
And  made  the  moans  about,  dared  scoff 

At  sober  Christian  grief  —  the  Jew ! 

39- 
*'  *  Sirs,  I  salute  you  !    Never  rise  1 

No  apprehension  I '     (Buti,  white 
And  trembling  like  a  tub  of  size, 

Had  tried  to  smuggle  out  of  sight 
The  picture's  self  —  the  thing  in  oils, 

You  know,  from  which  a  fresco's  dashed 
Which  courage  speeds  while  caution  spoils) 

*  Stay  and  be  praised,  sir,  unabashed  I 

40. 

"  *  Praised,  —  ay,  and  paid  too :  for  I  come 

To  buy  that  very  work  of  yours. 
My  poor  abode,  which  boasts  —  well,  some 

Few  specimens  of  Art,  secures 


62  o  FILIPPO  BALDINUCCI 

Haply,  a  masterpiece  indeed 

If  I  should  find  my  humble  means 

Suffice  the  outlay.     So,  proceed ! 
Propose — ere  prudence  intervenes  I  * 

41. 

"On  Buti,  cowering  like  a  child, 

These  words  descended  from  aloft, 
In  tones  so  ominously  mild. 

With  smile  terrifically  soft 
To  that  degree  —  could  Buti  dare 

(Poor  fellow)  use  his  brains,  think  twice? 
He  asked,  thus  taken  unaware. 

No  more  than  just  the  proper  price! 

1 
4a. 

"^Donel^  cries  the  monster.     *  I  disburse 

forthwith  your  moderate  demand. 
Count  on  my  custom  —  if  no  worse 
Your  future  work  be,  understand^ 


ON  THE  PRIVILEGE   OF  BURIAL.  62 1 

Than  this  I  carry  off!    No  aid  I 
My  arm,  sir,  lacks  nor  bone  nor  thews : 

The  burden's  easy,  and  w^re  made, 
Easy  or  hard,  to  bear  —  we  jfews!* 

43- 
"Crossing  himself  at  such  escape, 

Buti  by  turns  the  money  eyes 
And,  timidly,  the  stalwart  shape 

Now  moving  doorwards ;  but,  more  wise. 
The  Farmer,  —  who,  though  dumb,  this  while 

Had  watched  advantage,  —  straight  conceived 
A  reason  for  that  tone  and  smile 

So  mild  and  softl    The  Jew  —  believed  I 

44- 
"Mary  in  triumph  borne  to  deck 

A  Hebrew  household !     Pictured  where 
No  one  was  used  to  bend  the  neck 

In  praise  or  bow  the  knee  in  prayer  I 


622  FILIPPO  BALDINUCCI 

Borne  to  that  domicile  by  whom  ? 

The  son  of  the  High  Priest !     Through  what  ? 
An  insult  done  his  mother's  tomb  1 

Saul  changed  to  Paul  —  the  case  came  pat ! 

45- 

"  ^Siay,  dog-jfew  .  .  gentle  sir,  that  is  I 

Resolve  me  I    Can  it  be,  she  crowns,  — 
Mary,  by  miracle,  —  Oh  bliss  /  — 

My  present  to  your  burial-ground  ? 
Certain,  a  ray  of  light  has  burst 

Your  veil  of  darkness  I    Had  you  else. 
Only  for  Mary's  sake,  disbursed 

So  much  hard  money  1     Tell — oh,  telPs l^ 

/ 

"  Round  —  like  a  serpent  that  we  took 
For  worm  and  trod  on  —  turns  his  bulk 

About  the  Jew.     First  dreadful  look 
Sends  Buti  in  a  trice  to  skulk 


ON  THE  PRIVILEGE  OF  BURIAL.  623 

Out  of  sight  somewhere,  save  —  alack ! 

But  our  good  Farmer  faith  made  bold : 
And  firm  (with  Florence  at  his  back) 

He  stood,  while  gruff  the  gutturals  rolled  — 

47- 
"*-<4y,  «>,  a  miracle  was  worked 

By  quite  anotJier  power,  I  trow. 
Than  ever  yet  in  canvas  lurked. 

Or  you  would  scarcely  face  me  now  / 
A  certain  impulse  did  suggest 

A  certain  grasp  with  this  right-hand. 
Which  probably  had  put  to  rest 

Our  quarrel,  — thus  your  throat  once  spanned  I 

48. 

**  *  But  I  remembered  me,  subdued 

27iat  impulse,  and  you  face  me  still! 

And  soon  a  philosophic  mood 

Succeeding  (hear  it,  if  you  wiUl) 


\y 


024  FILIPPO  BALDINUCCl 

Has  altogether  changed  my  views 
Concerning  Art.     Blind  prejudice  I 

Well  may  you  Christians  tax  us  yews 
With  scrupulosity  too  nice  I 

49- 

" '  For^  don't  I  see,  —  lefs  issue  join  t — 

Whenever  Fm  allowed  pollute 
(J —  and  my  little  bag  of  coin) 

Some  Christian  palace  of  repute,  — 
DonH  I  see  stuck  up  everywhere 

Abundant  proof  that  cultured  taste 
Has  Beauty  for  its  only  care, 

And  upon  Truth  no  thought  to  wasted 

SO- 
« < « Jew,  since  it  must  be,  take  in  pledge 

Of  payment "  —  so  a  Cardinal 
Has  sighed  to  me  as  if  a  wedge 

Entered  his  heart  "  this  best  of  all 


ON  THE  PRIVILEGE  OF  BURIAL.  6^5 

My  treasures  ! "   Leda,  Ganymede 

Or  Antiope:  swan,  eagle,  ape, 
{Or  wJiafs  the  least  of  whafs  t/ie  breed) 

And  jfupiter  in  every  sJiapel 

SI- 
"*  Whereat  if  J  presume  to  ask, 

"But,  Eminence,  though  Titian's  whisk 
Of  brush  have  well  performed  its  task. 

How  comes  it  these  false  godships  frisk 
In  presence  of  —  what  yonder  frame 

Pretends  to  image  ?     Surely,  odd 
It  seems,  you  let  confront  The  Name 

Each  beast  the  heathen  called  his  god  I  ** 

52- 
*'  *  Benignant  smiles  me  pity  straight 

TJie  Cardinal.     "'Tis  Truth,  we  prize  I 
Art's  the  sole  question  in  debate  1 

These  subjects  are  so  many  lies. 


826  FILIPPO  BALDINUCCI 

We  treat  them  with  a  proper  scorn 

When  we  turn  lies  —  called  gods  forsooth' 

To  lies'  fit  use,  now  Christ  is  born. 
Drawing  and  coloring  are  Truth. 

S3- 
"'"Think  you  I  honor  lies  so  much 

As  scruple  to  parade  the  charms 
Of   Leda  —  Titian,  every  touch  — 

Because  the  ^hing  within  her  arms 
Means  Jupiter  who  had  the  praise 

And  prayer  of   a  benighted  world  ? 
He  would  have  mine  too,  if,  in  days 

Of  light,  I  kept  the  canvas  furled  I" 

"  *  So  ending,  with  some  easy  gibe. 
What  power  has  logic  J    /,  at  once, 

Acknowledged  error  in  our  tribe 

So  squeamish  thaty  when  friends  ensconce 


ON  THE  PRIVILEGE   OF  BURIAL.  627 

A  pretty  picture  in  its  niche 

To  do  tis  honor,  deck  our  graves, 
We  fret  and  fume  and  have  an  itch 

To  strangle  folk  —  ungrateful  knaves  ! 

55- 
"  *  No,  sir  /    Be  sure  that  —  whafs  its  style. 

Your  picture  2  —  shall  possess  ungrudged 
A  place  among  my  rank  and  file 

Of  Ledas  and  what  7iot  —  be  judged 
jfust  as  a  picture !  and  (because 

J  fear  me  much  I  scarce  have  bought 
A  Titian)  Master  ButVs  flavos 

Found  there,  will  have  the  laugh  flaws  ought  I  ^ 

• 
56- 

"  So,  with  a  scowl,  it  darkens  door  — 
This  bulk  —  no  longer!     Buti  makes 

Prompt  glad  re-entry ;  there's  a  score 
Of  oaths,  as  the  good  Farmer  wakes 


628  FILIPPO  BALDINUCCI 

From  what  must  needs  have  been  a  trance, 
Or  he  had  struck  (he  swears)  to  ground 

The  bold  bad  mouth  that  dared  advance 
Such  doctrine  the  reverse  of  sound  I 

57- 

"  Was  magic  here  ?    Most  like  !     For,  since, 

Somehow  our  city's  faith  grows  still 
More  and  more  lukewarm,  and  our  Prince 

Or  loses  heart  or  wants  the  will 
To  check  increase  of  cold.     'Tis  ^  Live 

And  let  live  !    Languidly  repress 
The  Dissident !    In  short  —  contrive 

Christians  must  bear  with  yews :  no  less/* 

58. 
"The  end  seems,  any  Israelite 

Wants  any  picture,  —  pishes,  poohs. 
Purchases,  hangs  it  full  in  sight 

In  any  chamber  he  may  choose  I 


ON  THE  PRIVILEGE   OF  BURIAL.  629 

In  Christ's  crown,  one  more  thorn  we  rue ! 

In  Mary's  bosom,  one  more  sword ! 
No,  boy,  you  must  not  pelt  a  Jew ! 

O  Lord,  how  long?    How  long,  O  Lord?" 


630  EPILOGUE 


EPTLOGUR. 

fiEOTOl   .    .   . 

ol  ff  afi^pjjg  olvoo  fdXavog  Moafiiov. 


"  The  poets  pour  us  wine  —  " 

Said  the  dearest  poet  I  ever  knew, 
Dearest  and  greatest  and  best  to  me. 
You  clamor  athirst  for  poetry  — 
We  pour.     "  But  when  shall  a  vintage  be  "  — 

You    cry  — "  strong    grape,    squeezed    gold    from 
screw, 
Yet  sweet  juice,  flavored  flowery-fine  ? 

That  were  indeed  the  wine ! " 

2. 

One  pours  your  cup  —  stark  strength. 

Meat  for  a  man ;  and  you  eye  the  pulp 
Strained,  turbid  still,  from  the  viscous  blood 
Of  the  snaky  bough :   and  you  grumble  "  Good ! 


EPILOGUE.  631 

For  it  swells  resolve,  breeds  hardihood; 

Despatch  it,  then,  in  a  single  gulp ! " 
So,  down,  with  a  wry  face,  goes  at  length 

The  liquor :   stuff  for  strength. 

3- 

One  pours  your  cup  —  sheer  sweet, 

The  fragrant  fumes  of  a  year  condensed: 

Suspicion  of  all  that's  ripe  or  rathe. 

From  the  bud  on  branch  to  the  grass  in  swathe. 

"We  suck  mere  milk  of  the  seasons,"  saith 
A  curl  of  each  nostril  —  "  dew,  dispensed 

Nowise  for  ner\''ing  man  to  feat: 
Boys  sip  such  honeyed  sweet ! " 

4-     • 

And  thus  who  wants  wine  strong, 

Waves  each  sweet  smell  of  the  year  away; 
Who  likes  to  swoon  as  the  sweets  suffuse 
His  brain  with  a  mixture  of  beams  and  dews 


63a  EPILOGUE. 

Turned  sirupy  drink  —  rough  strength  eschews: 
"What  though  in  our  veins  your  wine-stock  stay? 

The  lack  of  the  bloom  does  our  palate  wrong. 
Give  us  wine  sweet,  not  strong  1 " 


5- 

Yet  wine  is  —  some  affirm  — 

Prime  wine  there  is  in  the  world  somewhere, 
Of  portable  strength  with  sweet  to  match. 
You  double  your  heart  its  dose,  yet  catch  — 
As  the  draught  descends  —  a  violet-smatch, 
Through  drops  expressed  by  the  fire  and  worm : 

Strong  sweet  wine  —  some  affirm. 


6. 

Body  and  bouquet  both? 

'Tis  easy  to  ticket  a  bottle  so ; 
But  what  was  the  case  in  the  cask,  my  friends? 
Cask?     Nay,  the  vat  —  where  the  maker  mends 


EPILOGUE.  633 

His  strong  with  his  sweet  (you  suppose)  and  blends 
His  rough  with  his  smooth,  till  none  can  know 

How  it  comes  you  may  tipple,  nothing  loath, 
Body  and  bouquet  both. 

7. 

"You"  being  just  —  the  world. 

No  poets  —  who  turn,  themselves,  the  winch 
Of  the  press  ;   no  critics  —  I'll  even  say, 
(I  am  flustered  and  easy  of  faith,  to-day) 
Who  for  love  of  the  work  have  learned  the  way 

Till  themselves  produce  home-made,  at  a  pinch : 
No !     You  are  the  world,  and  wine  ne'er  purled 

Except  to  please  the  world ! 

8. 

"  For,  oh  the  common  heart  I 
And,  ah  the  irremissible  sin 
Of  poets  who  please  themselves,  not  us  ! 
Strong  wine  yet  sweet  wine  pouring  thus, 


634  EPILOGUE. 

How  please  still  —  Pindar  and  ^schylus  J  — 
Drink  —  dipt  into  by  the  bearded  chin 

Alike  and  the  bloomy  lip  —  no  part 
Denied  the  common  heart ! 


9- 

"And  might  we  get  such  grace, 

And  did  you  moderns  but  stock  our  vault 
With  the  true  half-brandy  half-attar-gul, 
How  would  seniors  indulge  at  a  hearty  pull 
While  juniors  tossed  off  their  thimbleful ! 

Our  Shakespeare  and  Milton  escaped  your  faulty 
So,  they  reign  supreme  o'er  the  weaker  race 
That  want  the  ancient  grace  ! " 

lO. 

If  I  paid  myself  with  words 

(As  the  French  say  well)  I  were  dupe  indeed ! 
I  were  found  in  belief  that  you  quaffed  and  bowsed 
At  your  Shakespeare  the  whole  day  long,  caroused 


EPILOGUE.  635 

In  your  Milton  pottle-deep  nor  drowsed 
A  moment  of  night  —  toped  on,  took  heed 

Of  nothing  like  modern  cream-and-curds  I 
Pay  me  with  deeds,  not  words ! 

II. 

For  —  see  your  cellarage  ! 

There  are  forty  barrels  with  Shakespeare's  brand. 
Some  five  or  six  are  abroach :   the  rest 
Stand  spigoted,  fauceted.     Try  and  test 
What  yourselves  call  best  of  the  very  best! 

Why  is  it  that  still  untouched  they  stand  ? 
Why  don't  you  try  tap,  advance  a  stage 

With  the  rest  in  cellarage  ? 

/ 

12. 

For  —  see  your  cellarage  ! 

There  are  four  big  butts  of  Milton's  brew. 
How  comes  it  you  make  old  drips  and  drops 
Do  duty,  and  there  devotion  stops? 


636  EPILOGUE. 

Leave  such  an  abyss  of  malt  and  hops 
Embellied  in  butts  which  bungs  still  glue? 

You  hate  your  bard !     A  fig  for  your  rage  I 
Free  him  from  cellarage  I 

13- 

'Tis  said  I  brew  stiff  drink, 

But  the  deuce  a  flavor  of  grape  is  there. 
Hardly  a  May-go-down,  'tis  just 
A  sort  of  a  gruff  Go-down-it-must  — 
No  Merry-go-down,  no  gracious  gust 

Commingles  the  racy  with  May,  the  rare ! 
"What  wonder,"  say  you  "we  cough,  and  blink 

October's  heady  drink?" 

14. 

Is  it  a  fancy,  friends? 

Mighty  and  mellow  are  never  mixed, 
Though  mighty  and  mellow  be  born  at  once. 
Sweet  for  the  future,  —  strong  for  the  nonce  I 


EPILOGUE.  637 

Stuff  you  should  stow  away,  ensconce 
In  the  deep  and  dark,  to  be  found  fast-fixed 

At  the  century's  close :   such  time  strength  spends 
A-sweetening  for  my  friends ! 

IS- 

And  then  —  why,  what  you  quaff 

With  a  smack  of  lip  and  a  cluck  of  tongue, 
Is  leakage  and  leavings  —  just  what  haps 
From  the  tun  some  learned  taster  taps 
With  a  promise  "  Prepare  your  watery  chaps ! 

Here's  properest  wine  for  old  and  young ! 
Dispute  its  perfection  —  you  make  us  laugh  ! 

Have  faith,  give  thanks,  but  —  quaff !  " 

16.' 

Leakage,  I  say,  or  worse. 

Leavings  sufiice  pot-valiant  souls. 
Somebody,  brimful,  long  ago,  / 

Frothed  flagon  he  drained  to  the  dregs ;   and  lo, 


638  EPILOGUE. 

• 

Down  whisker  and  beard  what  an  overflow  I 

Lick  spilth  that  has  trickled  from  classic  jowls. 

Sup  the  single  scene,  sip  the  only  verse  — 

Old  wine,  not  new  and  worse  1 

17- 

I  grant  you :   worse  by  much ! 

Renounce  that  new  where  you  never  gained 
One  glow  at  heart,  one  gleam  at  head. 
And  stick  to  the  warrant  of   age  instead ! 
No  dwarfs-lap  !     Fatten,  by  giants  fed  ! 

You  fatten,  with  oceans  of  drink  undrained? 
You  feed  —  who  would  choke  did  a  cobweb  smutch 

The  Age  you  love  so  much? 

18. 

A  mine's  beneath  a  moor : 

Acres  of  moor  roof  fathoms  of  mine 
Which  diamonds  dot  where  you  please  to  dig : 
Yet  who  plies  spade  for  the  bright  and  big? 


EPILOGUE.  639 

Your  product  is  —  txufiBes,  you  hunt  with  a  pig ! 

Since  bright-and-big,  when  a  man  would  dine, 
Suits  badly:   and  therefore  the  Koh-i-noor 

May  sleep  in  mine  'neath  moorl 

19. 

Wine,  pulse  in  might  from  me! 

It  may  never  emerge  in  must  from  vat, 
Never  fill  cask  nor  furnish  can, 
Never  end  sweet,  which  strong  began  — 
God's  gift  to  gladden  the  heart  of  man ; 

But  spirit's  at  proof,  I  promise  that! 
No  sparing  of  juice  spoils  what  should  be 

Fit  brewage — mine  for  me. 

Man's  thoughts  and  loves  and  hates! 

Earth  is  my  vineyard,  these  grew  there: 
From  grape  of  the  ground,  I  made  or  marred 
My  vintage ;   easy  the  task  or  hard. 


640  EPILOGUE. 

Who  set  it  —  his  praise  be  my  reward ! 

Earth's  yield !    Who  yearn  for  the  Dark  Blue  Sea's 
Let  them  "  lay,  pray,  bray  "  —  the  addle-pates, 

Mine  be  Man's  thoughts,  loves,  hates ! 

21. 

But  some  one  says  "  Good  Sir !  " 

('Tis  a  worthy  versed  in  what  concerns 
The  making  such  labor  turn  out  well) 
"You  don't  suppose  that  the  nosegay-smell 
Needs  always  come  from  the  grape  ?     Each  bell 

At  your  foot,  each  bud  that  your  Honor  spurns, 
The  very  cowslip  would  act  like  myrrh 
On  the  stiffest  brew  —  good  Sir  1 

22. 

"  Cowslips,  abundant  birth 

O'er  meadow  and  hillside,  vineyard  too, 
i — Like  a  schoolboy's  scrawlings  in  and  out 
Distasteful  lesson-book  —  all  about 


EPILOGUE.  641 

Greece  and  Rome,  victory  and  rout  — 
Love-verses  instead  of  such  vain  add 

So,  fancies  frolic  it  o'er  the  earth 
Where  thoughts  have  rightlier  birth. 

23- 
"  Nay,  thoughtlings  they  themselves : 

Loves,  hates  —  in    little  and  less  and  least ! 
Thoughts?     '  What  is  a  man  beside  a  mount  1^ 
Loves  ?     *  Absent  — poor  lovers  the  minutes  count  I  * 
Hates?     ^ Fie  —  FoJ>e's  letters  to  Martha  Blount/* 

These  furnish  a  wine  for  a  children's-feast : 
Insipid  to  man,  they  suit  the  elves 

Like  thoughts,  loves,  hates  themselves." 

24. 

And,  friends,  beyond  dispute 

I  too  have  the  cowslips  dewy  and  dear. 
Punctual  as  Springtide  forth  peep  they : 
I  leave  them  to  make  my  meadow  gay. 


643  EPILOGUE. 

But  I  ought  to  pluck  and  impound  them,  eh  ? 

Not  let  them  alone,  but  deftly  shear 
And  shred  and  reduce  to  —  what  may  suit 

Children,  beyond  dispute? 

25 

And,  here's  May-month,  all  bloom, 

All  bounty :  what  if  I  sacrifice  ? 
If  I  out  with  shears  and  shear,  nor  stop 
Shearing  till  prostrate,  lo,  the  crop  ? 
And  will  you  prefer  it  to  ginger-pop 

When  I've  made  you  wine  of  the  memories 
Which  leave  as  bare  as  a  churchyard  tomb 

My  meadow,  late  all  bloom  ? 

26. 

Nay,  what  ingratitude 

Should  I  hesitate  to  amuse  the  wits 
That  have  pulled  so  long  at  my  flask,  nor  grudged 
The  headache  that  paid  their  pains,  nor  budged 


EPILOGUE.  643 

From  bunghole  before  they  sighed  and  judged 
"  Too  rough  for  our  taste,  to-day,  befits 

The  racy  and  right  when  the  years  conclude  I " 
Out  on  ingratitude  I 

27. 

Grateful  or  ingrate  —  none, 

No  cowslip  of  all  my  fairy  crew 
Shall  help  to  concoct  what  makes  you  wink. 
And  goes  to  your  head  till  you  think  you  think 
I  like  them  alive :   the  printer's  ink 

Would  sensibly  telL  on  the  perfume  too. 
I  may  use  up  my  nettles,  ere  I've  done ; 

But  of  cowslips  —  friends  get  none  I 

28. 

Don't  nettles  make  a  broth 

Wholesome  for  blood  grown  lazy  and  thick  ? 
Maws  out  of  sorts  make  mouths  out  of  taste. 
My  Thirty-four  Port  —  no  need  to  waste 


644  EPILOGUE. 

On  a  tongue  that's  fur  and  a  palate  —  paste ! 

A  magnum  for  friends  who  are  sound  I  the  sick  — 
I'll  posset  and  cosset  them,  nothing  loath, 

Henceforward  with  nettle-broth  I 


